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reallychaoticwoo · 11 days

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May I request a yeosang x fan reader smut. Where she goes to Seoul to go to a concert. But she meets Yeosang the day before and she freaks out like panic attack mode. So he takes her to his dorm. Has her shower and change into some of his clothes and it gets him hard and she never had experienced sex or even masturbate so she doesn't understand what she is feeling so he walks her through it all from fingerings to squirting to oral to eventually full on sex. And as they finish she notices blood and gets worried so Yeosang calms her down and such?

⛓️I really enjoyed writing this one! Im still not fully confident in my smut writing abilities, but i think this one turned out better than the last one. Hopefully, this meets your expectations🖤⛓️

✨️Sex Ed in Seoul✨️

📝Word Count: 3,820

❤️Pairing: Yeosang x reader

⚠️Warnings: MDNI 18+ ONLY!! cussing, fingering/oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), squirting, inexperienced reader, experienced Yeo, panick attack, lots of smut and a sprinkle of fluff (im a sucker for a happy ending)🖤 Please lmk if I missed anything!

‼️This is purely for entertainment purposes and does not represent the idols in any way‼️

🖤Hope you enjoy!🖤

Your plane just landed, and you are rushing through the bustling airport to get your bags and find where you'll be staying for the night. Not that you haven't already booked a hotel, but you've never been to Seoul before, so you weren't really sure how to get around the city.

Grabbing your bags, you made your way out of the airport and through the busy streets. It must be obvious to everyone that you're not from here. Aside from your difference in fashion and your obviously American choice of luggage, you were looking around at your surroundings like a kid in a candy store. The locals seemed rather nice, giving you small smiles as you passed by. After about 15 minutes of mindless wondering, you made your way to a rather cozy looking coffee shop.

Sitting down with your large luggage bags next to you, you made yourself comfortable and started to Google Maps how to get to the hotel you'd be staying at. You were so ready to make it to where you'd be staying for the next few days. Wanting to unpack, shower, and set out your concert fit for tomorrow. You'd been saving up since the last tour, your heart set on making it to Seoul, and you finally had.

Having been so engrossed in your googling and your thoughts of what tomorrow would be like, you completely missed the man who just sat down next to you. He looked really familiar but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. It's not like you know anyone from here, minus the idols, which, let's be honest, you don't actually know. That's when you saw it. The distinct birthmark peaking out from under his mask, next to his eye. 'No way. There's no fucking way that's him. Do I say something? Do I ignore him and pretend like my bias isn't sitting right next to me??' Your mind was racing almost as fast as your heart.

"So, what brings you to town?" Omg, he's talking to you. You're not sure if it's fear, embarrassment, butterflies, or sheer panic, but your heart is beating so fast you could swear it's about to pound itself right out of your chest. Right now, your chest seems like it's the tightest it's ever been.

"Hey, are you okay?" He looked at you with concern written all over his face. "Uh- I- i- I'm so sorry," quickly trying to gather your things, tears starting to well in your eyes, you knocked your coffee over. Spilling all over the table, floor, and your clothes. 'No... fuck, this can't be happening right now.' The tears no longer resting in your eyes but flooding down your cheeks. Your breathing uneven and fast, your body trembling all over.

Yeosang was quick to action, notifying an employee nearby that there was a spill and apologizing for the hasty exit the two of you would be making. Grabbing your hand and your luggage, he pulled you outside and into a black car that was parked at the back of the coffee shop. Once the two of you were secure in the car, he checked to make sure you were buckled properly. He held your hand is his, pulling down his mask. "Hey, hey, take some deep breaths.. everything is okay." Barely able to comprehend what just happened, what was currently happening, you leaned forward, putting your head in between your legs, trying to steady your breathing. Rubbing small circles on your back with his free hand, his other one gently brushing your hand is his, he repeated, "Everything is okay. You're doing great, so continue to take deep breaths and let your body relax."

Not even 10 minutes later, the car had come to a stop. Extending his hand out to you, Yeosang helped you out of the vehicle, grabbing your luggage once again, before waving the driver off. You had gained some control over your breathing, but the feeling of your chest shattering inside you was still evident. Walking inside the large building in front of you, he effortlessly navigated you through the halls and to a room. The room was stunning, white walls, soft gray bedding, a few plants hanging or sitting in various spots, a small bookshelf against the wall filled with some of your favorite novels and a sleek gray desk without a single thing misplaced. It felt comfortable, like a safe haven.

"This is my room, I hope you don't mind the messy bed, I wasn't really expecting to bring someone home today," a nervous but sweet chuckle escaping him. "Uh, I figured you could use a shower as they always help calm my nerves, and I'm not really sure where you're staying, so I brought you here. I hope that's okay?" You tried to look grateful, but everything inside of you was stuck in the limbo of uncertainty. Giving your best polite smile and a nod, he continued, "Well, the bathroom is over here, I'll set some clean clothes and a towel in there for you. Please take all the time you need in there. I'll be in here when you get out." Grabbing a towel and some of his comfiest clothes, he placed them neatly on the counter before returning to the room. "All set. I'll see you whenever you're ready."

Standing under the warm water, letting it embrace your skin, you finally let your body release its tension. Your shoulders dropping and your back slouching ever so slightly. He was right. A shower is just what you need to help calm your nerves. After about an hour of regaining yourself, you finally left the warmth and comfort of the shower. Drying yourself off and putting on the clothes Yeosang left out for you, you took a look at yourself in the mirror. "You've got this. He's just a human, like any other human out there. Just be yourself and don't panic." After your whispered self pep talk, you finally made your way out of the bathroom.

Perking up as soon as he heard the handle to the bathroom door move, he asked, "Are you feeling any better?" You smiled at him, an actual smile, and oh, it was a beautiful smile. "I am. Thank you for helping me out. You really didn't have to do that." He just shook his head at you, smiling kindly. "I did, though. I couldn't just let you go through that alone." His kind smile seemed to change for a split second with a different emotion you weren't able to quite place. Trying not to read too much into it, you sat on the foot of the bed facing him. "Well, I'm grateful for your kindness." Your smile was truly breathtaking. In fact, you sitting there on his bed, in his clothes, it was mesmerizing. Like all of his daydreams had come to life before him.

He'd always imagined himself with a girl who was soft and kind. Someone who would look like a doll in his clothing, whose smile would make his world pause in an instant. With someone like you. Feeling guilty for his wondering mind, he decided to ask again, "So, I asked earlier, but I never got my answer. What are you in town for?" Blush spreading across your face, you looked down, "Funny, you should ask.. I Uh, I actually came for your concert tomorrow. I've been a fan of you all for a while now, and it's my first time being able to come out to Seoul to see you perform." A wide grin spread across his face. How did he not notice you were an atiny? He was so worried about your impending panic attack that he completely failed to remember the fact you were wearing a tour shirt. "I'm glad you were able to make it! I must know, who's your bias? Maybe I could set up a personal meet and greet for you!" Fidgeting with your thumbs, you shot him a shy smile. "Oh, there's no need for that." He was puzzled, to say the least. What atiny wouldn't want to have a one on one with their bias? "Why's that?" He needed to understand why someone would pass up that opportunity. Most fans would (and have) fight for even a minute of time with their favorite member. "Well, uh, you kind of already have. You're my bias." There was no hiding the fact that your face was the same shade as a tomato. Did you really just tell him that? "Oh? Oh! Well, I'm glad I was the one that you ran into today then." That was it. You're literally the embodiment of what he's been dreaming of, and you like him too??

He wonders if you feel as soft as he's always imagined. What you sound like when you're being worshipped. What you'd feel like if he ever got to make you his own. His pants were tightening at the thoughts. Trying to shift his position, he leaned back further on the bed, pulling one of his legs up to try and hide his hardening length. Unluckily for him, or maybe it was lucky? You noticed that his pants seemed to have a tent that wasn't there before.

"Uh, should I, um, leave you to, uh, take care of that?" You weren't uncomfortable, but nervous? You didn't know much about sex. You were a virgin, hell, you've never even touched yourself. Yet the sight of him, even if only for a split second, sent tingles down your spine. "No, uh, I'm sorry. I'm not usually one to be so, uh, easily excited. I just, well, never mind." You cocked your head at him, your eyes questioning what he meant. Catching on to your confusion, he quickly tried to explain. "Look, I'm usually very in control of my urges, but I'd be lying if I said that you weren't something right out of my dreams. You are very gorgeous, and your smile is heart-stopping. I let my mind wonder, and I apologize for that."

He was honest. That was one of the many reasons you'd liked him so much in the first place. Aside from being painstakingly beautiful himself, he had a personality that was just as inviting as his looks. Feeling a surge of curiosity and something else you weren't really used to feeling, you decided to ask, "What do you mean you let your mind wonder? I'm sorry to ask, but I, Uh, I'm not really um.. experienced." It was his turn to look puzzled. "What do you mean by that? Not to ignore your question, but surely you have some experience?"

"No, I don't. I've never even touched myself, and I'm still a virgin. I just wanted to wait, ya know? Find someone worth giving myself to in that way.. someone who would actually love me and not just use me. I know, it's rare these days, but one can dream." You weren't really sure why you were telling him this. After tomorrow, you'd never see him again, so did it really matter? Give it a month, and he probably won't even remember. They meet so many fans with all kinds of stories.

"I understand, well, to answer your question from earlier. I couldn't help but wonder what your lips would taste like against mine. Or how pretty you sound when you moan. You must make the most magical noises when you're enjoying yourself." Your thighs clamped shut at his words. Your untouched cunt silently screaming to be loved, to be pleasured. You gulped at the thought, I mean, who better to take your virginity than someone you've literally dreamt about every night for years. Someone who you could only pray your future partner would remotely resemble. Someone who saw you, a stranger, and decided to help you when you were afraid and vulnerable.

"Yeosang... would you, um, would you be okay with taking it slow? Walking me through it?"

"I'd love nothing more. I'm gonna need you to come lay on the bed next to me, okay?"

Patting the bed next to him, you moved to lay beside him. Your nerves were getting the best of you again, but this time, it felt good? He eased his way over you, his legs straddling your thighs. Looking down at you with nothing but awe, he leaned in slowly, giving you time to move if you wanted, before softly caressing your lips with his. His hand moving up to gently cup your cheek and pull you slightly closer. Your head was already spinning. How could a kiss feel this good? He slowly moved his other hand to your breast, palming at the soft mound over your shirt. A small but angelic whimper escaping your mouth and flowing into his. You were so perfect, and all he's done is kiss you.

Parting your lips to catch his breath, he moved his way down, placing soft, calculated kisses on your jaw, then neck, the chest. Arching into his touch absentmindedly, your eyes closed in pure bliss, your hand followed his every move, finding its place in his hair, gently gripping the blonde locks in between your fingers. Kissing down your stomach, he stopped right above where his sweats sat on your waist. "Are you comfortable with taking these off, love?" He looked up at you, his eyes reassuring, full of concern for your comfort and yours only. It was obvious he wanted to make you feel good more than anything else. You nodded a quiet "Yes" escaping your lips.

With your permission, he hooked his thumbs on the waistband, pulling it and your panties down carefully. "I'm going to taste you now beautiful, okay? I need you to relax for me and let me make you feel good. Can you do that for me, precious?" Another nod from you is all he got, and all he needed. Licking a slow strip up your folds. "Fuck you're so wet already. Did you know that precious? Did you know how beautifully eager you cunt was for some attention?" Looking up at you, all he could see was the absolutely fucked out look on your face. He hadn't even fully started and you looked like you were ready to fall apart. God, you really could not be more perfect.

Placing a few more slow licks through your folds, he spread your thighs a little further apart. He wanted the perfect view of his new favorite meal. Your hands gripped the sheets beneath you, your hips bucking up, trying to find his tongue once again. "Fuck you're so eager to learn princess. Don't worry, I promise I'll teach you everything I know." And with that he was face first in your cunt again. Licking sweet circles around your clit. You felt like you were floating, your stomach creating a knot of pleasure just waiting to be released. Your hips moving with the licks he placed on your aching bud with perfect timing. Feeling like you were nearing your climax he slowly slipped his index finger inside your tight hole. "Dear god, you are so fucking tight baby, I'm not sure I'm gonna be able to fit, we're gonna have to prep this pretty pussy of yours okay?" You were nothing but a fraction of the girl you were just 10 minutes ago. Your brain foggy, your climax ready to take you under. He slipped his middle finger in, curling both fingers up to find the spongey spot he knew would set you off. Once he found it, he only slightly quickened his face, adding pressure you your clit with his tongue expertly flicking away. "Fuck... FUCK YEOSANNNGGG" Your vision went white, your thighs trembling at the feeling of your high spraying out of you. You were an absolute mess. Trying to catch your breath, you propped yourself up on your forearms. Yeosang already climbing on the bed next to you, water in hand. "Here love, take a sip." You gulped the water down, handing it back to him. "Your shirts soaked?? I'm so sorry!! I didn't mean to - i- I didn't know.." You started. He just laughed waving you off. "Of course you didn't know baby. I'm pleasantly surprised you can squirt and I am absolutely not complaining. It was hot as fuck. I'd love to make you do it again." And you would love to do it again. Having finally fully come back to and steadied your breathing you look at the blonde man sitting next to you. "Yeosang, please, I want you. I want you to have me, I want you to be my first. Please..." Fuck, how could he say no to that? He couldn't. He wouldn't. "Are you absolutely sure love? I don't want you to regret it later." He meant that too. He knew that it was important to you and he didn't want to be the guys you were so desperately trying to avoid. He wouldn't be them, he'd made up his mind. "I couldn't think of anyone else I'd rather loose my virginity to, Yeo.. you're literally my biggest fantasy.. please take me."

And with that, he was taking off his clothes, throwing them on the floor. You followed suit, taking off your.. his shirt, and tossing to the floor. He climbed back over you once again, and you spread your thighs, giving him perfect access to your glistening entrance. Leaning over you to place a gentle kiss on your forehead before resting his against it. "We'll take it slow, okay baby? If you need me to pause or to stop all together, just tell me, okay?" You smiled up at him, your eyes full of love. "Okay," you nodded. Lining himself up, he slowly pushed himself into your sopping cunt. Your lips parting at the stretch, a painful inhale falling from your mouth. "Are you okay? Do I need to stop?" You shook your head, "No, no please don't stop Sangie." A breathy plea to him. Inching himself further inside he groaned in pleasure at the feeling of your warm walls clenching around his cock like a glove. You feel like you were made for him. Molded to fit his dick, and his dick only. Stilling his movement once he was fully sheathed inside you he placed a hungry kiss to your lips. His tongue massaging yours, your beautiful moans being swallowed by him. Pulling away ever so slightly you whined looking at him with the most pitiful, gorgeous, look he's ever seen. "Sangie, please... please move."

Slowly, he retracted his hips before pushing back into you with one deep thrust. "Aahh, shit Sangie!" Another sharp thrust, "fuck you feel so good wrapped around me baby." He set the perfect pace, slow and deep thrusts, pulling you into your own personal utopia of pleasure. Your hands found their place on his shoulders, nails sinking into his skin surely leaving cresent marks he will be wearing proudly tomorrow. Your back arching in pleasure and your walls clenching around him, he quickened his pace. Sharp deep thrusts threatening to explode. "Fuck angel, are you close? I need you to cum for me beautiful, I need to feel you cum all over my cock." His eyes were pleading with yours his hand quickly moving down to where your sweet perky bud was. Applying pressure to the small mound, flicking over it in time with his trusts, your eyes glossed over, you were so far gone. "Sangie... sh...aaahhh.. I'm gonna..." the feeling washed over you with a surge that refused to hold back. Yeosangs thrusts becoming speratic as your essence floods over him like a warm wave "Quick baby, where do you want me to come??" Your mind barely had time to comprehend his words before you were saying, "inside please fuck Please cum inside me, I want to feel you everywhere." With a few more unsyncronized pumps, he was spewing thick white ropes onto your spasms walls. Steadying himself above you, he kissed you tenderly before slowly pulling out and standing up. "Let me help you get cleaned up, I'll be right back."

He disappeared into the bathroom, coming back only a few moments later with a warm washcloth. He was gentle when cleaning you up. Taking his time as to not cause you any pain or discomfort. You looked at the bed, and your body froze. "Yeo... Yeosang.. why is there blood??" Your voice and body trembling at the sight. He quickly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. "Don't freak out, okay. It's perfectly normal. A lot of girls bleed their first time having sex, and I promise it's nothing to worry about." He reassured you. "Now, how does a bath sound?" A soft hum into his shoulder was all he needed to know that that's exactly what you needed right now. Gently laying you back down, he disappeared to the bathroom again. As he drew your bath, adding relaxing oils and bath salts, he laid out two towels and some body oil for after.

"Let's get you in the tub angel. I'll be there to join you in a few minutes, okay? I'm just gonna make the bed really quick." He helped you into the tub, one hand holding yours and his other hand resting on your back as you eased yourself in. A quick kiss to your forehead, and he was leaving to change the bedding and throw the soaked sheets in the laundry.

Once he returned, he joined you in the tub, sitting behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist. "So I was thinking.." He started, "I know we just met, and we just had sex, but I was hoping that, if you want, of course, you'd stay with me? You don't have to answer now, but I just want you to know I think you're really something special and I'd love to see what the future has in store for us." You nodded, listening to his words, deciding to answer him after you weren't naked at the very least.

He helped you bathe, and you, of course, returned the favor. Getting out of the tub, he made sure to hold you steady and wrapped you in a fluffy towel. He helped you get dressed in a new set of his clothes and even carried you to his bed. Laying you down under the covers, he climbed in bed next to you. You turned to face him, looking at him with so much admiration, so much wonder and love. "I'd love to stay with you." You said before turning to lay on your back. He pulled you back to face him, his arms tightening around your waist. He kissed the tip of your nose softly, "You dont even know how happy you just made me. You really are the woman of my dreams."

#ateez x reader #ateez #ateez fic #yeosang smut #yeosang fluff #yeosang x reader #yeosang x y/n #idol yeosang x atiny reader #yeosang x you #yeosang #yeosang fic #virgin reader #inexperiended reader

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gaily-daily-musings · 11 months

Text

There's a man on the steps of his sanctum. He's been knocking for a while now and doesn't seem to be leaving. Stephen Strange frowns. He senses no extraordinary energy from this man. His clothes are plain and simple. The man is the exact sort of unassuming person you would expect to be a trap of some sort.

“Doctor Strange!” The rapping comes again. There was an underlying sort of pleading, just west of desperation. This, if nothing else, made sense. One did not come to the Sanctum Sanctorum without cause.

It is about thirty minutes after the man arrives that Stephen finally decides to let him in. Hopefully he didn't do too much damage. He opens the door and steps aside, inviting him in. The man does not look around in awe or wonder the way any other person would when visiting the sanctum for the first time. Instead the man locks eyes with Strange and holds his gaze.

“My name is Mobius,” the man begins. “Thank you for seeing me. I know you're a busy–”

“Why are you here?” For half an hour Stephen had tried and failed to sense anything about the man. For all intents and purposes Mobius appeared normal both inside and out. Yet still something whispers in the air around him.

"I want to get to the end of time."

He says it so seriously that Stephen gives a little laugh. “Can't help you I'm afraid.”

But Mobius shakes his head. “It's important. I need to talk to the God of Stories!”

It's this that stops him in his tracks. “The God of Stories?” The one who held the universe together? It was an old folk tale. A nursery rhyme. It wasn't real. Neither was the end of time for that matter.

Mobius must see the doubt on his face for he continues. “He's real and I'm going to find him.”

It's the sheer determination in his gaze that makes Stephen pause. It was the same sort of determination he'd shown the Ancient One when he demanded she teach him how to use magic. He gives Mobius one last once over. The man had resolve he gave him that, but he was clearly also delusional. Ever since the world discovered aliens and magic were real they'd started to believe anything. Conspiracy theories had gotten more crazy with every year.

“As I said before, I can't help you. I don't have time to chase down fairy tales.”

Mobius frowns, his stare burning in disappointment. “You're the Sorcerer Supreme. I should think you'd give a little more credence to fairy tales.”

Stephen clicks his tongue. “Be that as it may, you should probably run along now.”

He's entertained Mobius as long as he could. But he had an academy to look after; real people with real problems.

Mobius gestures to his necklace where the Time Stone used to sit aside the Eye of Agamotto. "Why do you think it's green? Or was, I mean. The Time Stone?"

Stephen raises a brow. What an odd question. "Sometimes magicks take on a certain color. There isn't really a reason why. It just is.”

Mobius smiles gently, like Stephen is the one who doesn't understand anything. "The flow of time is why there is life. Without it we cannot exist. The branches of Yggdrasil are always producing more as the universe multiplies and expands. Time is life. Therefore it is green."

Stephen is silent a moment. It's a pretty sentimentality. But a sentimentality nonetheless.

“It's alright. I won't bother you anymore, Doctor.” Mobius opens the door and steps out. “Thank you for your time.”

Stephen watches him climb down the front steps. He stands by the doorway, lingering. He's not quite sure what makes him pause. Mobius certainly wasn't the strangest character he's ever met. New York was full of odd people.

He's about to close the door when he hears a loud screeching. Stephen looks back quickly. Mobius has stepped off the curb and is standing in front of a car headed right for him. Stephen opens his mouth to call out but its too late. Mobius moves, bracing for impact. He closes his eyes and covers his face.

That's when Stephen sees it. A light flares up and surrounds him, wrapping Mobius up in a protective green layer. The car stops in its tracks as it crashes into the light.

After a moment, Mobius uncovers his head, realizing the danger had passed. He looks up and sees the dented car. He blinks in bewilderment. He then looks down at his undamaged body. He tests his chest and legs as if to make sure he was alright. Then he scratches his head.

“Mobius!” Stephen appears beside him. Mobius jumps back. “How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“That magic!”

“What magic?”

He truly had no idea did he? Stephen grabs Mobius by the arm and ushers him back inside. The car driver and bystanders all stare after them.

“Whoah hey! Easy!”

Stephen closes the door and whirls around to face Mobius. Without a word he throws up his hands and conjures an energy blast. Shocked, Mobius flinches back. Stephen unleashes the attack. It races towards Mobius as the man once again braces himself. And once again, just as it had before, the green light appears.

This time it lingered. Long enough for Mobius to open his eyes and catch sight of it. Mobius stares in disbelief. He reaches out as if to touch it, but it dispels before he can.

Stephen studies the green light as it swirls around and disappears. Mobius wasn't the one controlling it and yet it leapt to his aid.

“It's a protection spell.” Stephen explains softly. That in of itself was curious enough. But what gives him caution is the signature of the magic itself. Stephen recognized that magic. He had seen it before.

Loki.

Mobius waves his hand in the air as if to summon it back. But the air remains stale. Of what significance was this man that Loki Laufeyson had cast such powerful spell?

Stephen eyes Mobius again. He had missed something. “Who are you?” He asks again.

Mobius turns to look at him. He offers a shrug. “Just a guy trying to find his friend.”

“And your friend, does he happen to be the Norse God of Mischief Loki?”

Mobius smiles, his eyes sparkle with mischief of their own. “The very one.”

#lokius fic #strange contacts thor who then grills this self proclaimed best friend of loki #HES loki's best friend how dare!!!!#lokius

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be-my-ally · 1 year

Text

A Tour of the Penthouse

ugh naming one-shots is the bane of my existence. I'm terrible at coming up with titles.

Hello! I am back! not that I ever left, but I've been on a bit of a writing break the past few weeks - not intentionally I might add, so I am mighty pleased to be *inspired* and writing again. Much more in the pipeline coming soon, but first, a fun little smutty 1973 vegas one night one-shot!

warnings: 18+, p in v, oral (v receiving), mirrors... that's it folks, short and basic but hopefully still hot! this doesn’t feel super elvis-y to me but i think that might be the self-doubt creeping in after it being so long since i last posted (i hope)!

For the prompt: “No. Don’t talk to her like that."

pairing: 1973 Elvis x female reader (note: photos below are from the stax studios sessions in memphis July 22nd about 2 weeks before the vegas dates this fic is set in, but if he was willing to wear velour in tennessee in july, I don't see why not in vegas in august).

wc: 4.4k

You’d had the fantasy, the idea of being plucked out of the audience, the concept of a tap on the shoulder; “Please, miss, come with us.” But you’d known that was purely fantastical. You’d not been handpicked to be here this evening, you’d handily bumped into the brother of your best friend’s husband - a tenuous link if ever there was one who’d happily offered you an evening’s entertainment after you’d embarrassingly admitted you’d come to Vegas alone in the vain hope of scoring an Elvis ticket. The embarrassment waned pretty fast though when he’d apologised for not being able to do better than a back of the balcony seat, but that, perhaps because you’d sounded so embarrassed or pathetic, he knew someone with a standing invite to “not an after-party, just, casual drinks after the show.” Even so, you’d not believed you’d get anywhere near Elvis himself. Yet, somehow here you were, drink in hand, being flirted with (inexplicably terribly) by one of his entourage as you pretended not to be solely focused on his friend and boss, talking mere feet away. He suddenly whirls around to you, talking loudly to the man in front of you,

“No. Don’t talk to her like that, man, c’mon.” Elvis shakes his head, “You gotta do it right if you’re gonna try.” The thin man, his name escaping you as entirely inconsequential now you’re being faced with Elvis himself, takes a step back as Elvis practically pushes him to the side, taking his place directly in front of you, hand brushing your arm in greeting. “ Just ignore him hon.” You nod, a little starstruck at being so close to him, having watched him from the balcony earlier that night it was almost a little jarring to go from such distance to so close. The top of his head and bridge of his nose had been more visible to you than anything else, the novelty of now being able to see up his nose one of the many thoughts rapidly running through your head. Oh God, how did I end up here? And, Lord, is that really Elvis talking to me? Competed to be at the forefront of your mind, although admittedly along with Is he really wearing velvet velour in Vegas?

“Oh, I’ll do my best! If you say so, Sir!” Sir? To be faced with him in all his physical glory - velour and all, was hindering your ability to form thought or words. He chuckles at you, seemingly finding your obviously flustered state endearing, while nudging the other man again,

“Now - before I had ta step-in and save ya, what was he promisin’ ya? A tour?” The other nods sheepishly, as you agree,

“Oh - uh, yes, um your, uh, friend - uhh, sorry, what was it again? Oh uh, Red here, was saying he could take me to have a look around the showroom, while it was empty-like. If uh, if I was interested.” You cringe internally as you feel yourself stumbling over your words. Elvis scoffs, rolling his eyes beneath tinted glasses.

“The showroom? That was the best you could do, huh boy?” He shakes his head in seeming exasperation, turning back to you to ask, “You ever wanted to see a dressing room… or uh, my suite?” Of course you have, who wouldn’t have done?

“Oh. Well, I uh, I can’t say I’ve considered it before.” You wince internally, trying to keep your outer expression neutral, was that seriously your best reply?

“No? Well honey, I’ll have to take you back and show you some time.” You can’t help the giggles escaping, nor the slight snort that preceded them - too utterly flustered to worry about playing it cool.

“C’mon EP, that’s not playin’ fair, you’re practically bribing the poor girl.” Red says it almost without thinking, and you can see the nerves play out on his face, hoping Elvis would react the way he’d intended.

“Bribing?” He scoffs, “With you as the competition,” sneering he turns back to you, “go on then, doll, who’d you pick? Me or this ol’ lug?” He puffs out his chest as if showing off.

“Well, uh, Mr. Uh. Mr West. You’re very nice and all, but -“ Red laughs in response,

“Don’t worry darlin’, I knew I was fighting a losin’ battle soon as he stepped over here.” He nods, “I’ll try my luck over there, you two enjoy your night.” He smiles, although you can tell he’s a little put out. Elvis looks pleased with himself, hip cocked and hand inserted into his bright gold belt, seemingly waiting for you to have something else to say.

“That - that’s not the outfit you were wearing earlier.” If you could smack yourself right now, you would; of course it wasn’t the same outfit, why would he stay in a stage costume all night, you wish you could take the words back but Elvis smiles, a little ruefully, pulling his hand from his belt to run it through his hair.

“Well honey,” He drawls out the endearment, elongating the syllable break, as if debating whether to tell you, or perhaps an attempt at making his voice sound even more appealing. “It’s, a bit embarrassin’ to admit, but… I’ve got a bit of a habit of splitting my pants…” He looks at you, solemnly shaking his head, “Just you know, with all the movin’ and shakin’ on stage, I seem to go through a lot of them. Made it through the show alright tonight, but apparently climbing down them stairs off the stage at the end was too much for ‘em.”

“Oh.” Your eyes widen as you take that in for a second, mind gone as you imagine the white crystallised suit of earlier, splitting down the seam and then all the way down his legs, imagining it falling off of him completely, him stood nude and glorious against the spotlight of the stage. You realise he was still talking, “Huh? Sorry - What’d you say?” Elvis rolls his eyes,

“I said, listen, how’s about you come and take a look? Are you any good with a needle?” You’re slow to the uptake when being faced with his southern drawl and seemingly random question and you panic for a second; he’s still looking at you, watching your expressions with unblinking eyes beneath his lavender shades, you can’t think of what to say in response, such an easy question, but what level of skill does he even need? You gape at him until he finally seems to take pity, shrugging a little,

“S’alright if you’re not, it’s just my fingers, I’ve never got the hang of it,” He lowers his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “My ma tried, but I can never thread it quite right.” He mimes trying to thread a needle, comedically - tongue out, and one eye closed. You burst out laughing, mostly from sheer relief from being able to form thought again. “You must at least know how to hem?”

You nod, a little offended, “Of course! I made this dress!” He looks you up and down, and you feel yourself stand up a little straighter, an almost subconscious reaction to his looking, while smoothing the pockets down as surreptitiously as you can for his inspection.

“Made it fill out just right too.” You squirm on the spot in response, you can’t work out if you should be offended at being reduced to essentially free labour, or that you somehow find it totally acceptable just because he’s made your tummy flip with that one little sentence.

“Well, you know, just thought maybe, maybe I could just get you to take a look and let me know what you think I should do.”

“Oh uh, sure thing - Yes, absolutely, I could do that.” He grins at you, in reward for your compliance, before pressing a hand into the small of your back, directing you to the elevator.

It’s overwhelming, the feel of being with him in such a confined space, focussed on the door in front of you for the mere seconds between floors. It’s all you can do to keep yourself together, the smell of him, the feel of his hot palm still against your back making your thighs clench. Elvis seems to be in a world of his own, fingers gently rubbing your back, humming under his breath. You’re not quite sure why you’re both pretending you really were going to look at a torn jumpsuit. But when you start to follow that line of thought you can feel your heart-rate increasing and panic start to rise - it’s not that you don’t want to do whatever he has in mind, just that you’ve never done this causally before. All you can do is quickly attempt to distract yourself by curiously assessing the decor.

Somehow though, mere minutes later, small talk and short tour over, you find yourself sitting at his dressing table, jumpsuit in hand as you peer at the split straight along the seam of the crotch.

“Well, er, Elvis, here’s the thing - I think it might be beyond repair - or, at least it’s beyond what I can do with a travel kit.” He nods, solemnly, from over your shoulder, his sideburn hair tickling your cheek, and hands starting to span across your ribs.

“Hmm, guess I’ll have to send it to get mended then,” He tugs it out of your grip, balling it up and throwing it off to the side.

“Oh, well - yes, I’m sure someone will be able to - oh!” His hands creep further around your ribcage, until he’s just ever so slightly brushing his fingers further against your breasts. You shiver as his breath gets heavier on your, puff of laughter at your immediate physical reaction sending goosebumps across your exposed skin. He brushes your hair out of the way, gently tucking it behind the other ear, while his other hand remains spanning your ribs, thumb moving in delicate small circles. The small part of your brain not totally preoccupied solely with the sensation of him behind you wonders if you should be doing something yourself, turning around maybe, but before you can move you feel him lean back in to your neck, lips barely two inches from your skin.They brush against your ear and you squirm away, shuddering a little.

“Oh,” Elvis laughs, “That’s a no for that, huh, sweetheart. I’ll have to pull out my special moves for you then.” You nod, rapidly, starting to explain that he definitely should pull out any and all moves just nowhere near your ears, but as you’d swung your head up you’d made thunking contact with his nose.

“Shit! Son-of-a-mother -“ He swears loudly as he takes a sudden step backwards, knocked off balance, and you whirl around apologies tumbling out of your mouth,

“Oh god, oh, god I’m so sorry.” He’s pulling his glasses off of his face, a red mark spreading from the bridge of his nose up to between his eyebrows where your head had knocked them hard against his soft skin. “Oh god! Your face!” He blinks at you for a moment, rubbing at the redness, before his face breaks into a crooked grin.

“Can’t say I’ve bumped noses in a while.” He’s still rubbing the spot even while he’s joking and you can’t bring yourself to laugh with him, the embarrassment rolling down your spine, your cheeks turning red to match his.

“Oh god, maybe I should just go,” You stand from the chair, looking around for your purse, “I don’t know what I was thinking - this is clearly a sign, I’ll be out of your hair in a moment.” He rushes to stop you, hand grabbing your forearm,

“No, no, please, look - I’m fine now,” He gestures to his face, “bet it won’t even bruise.” You shake your head, “No, look, we just needta be face to face.” His hands grip your waist, eyes telling you to stay, and once he’s sure you’ll stay in place, he brings his hands up to cup your cheeks, “See, you can’t headbutt me from here, just needed to look at each-other.” You nod, gently, barely moving your head.

“Well, you might be right,” His thumb brushes over your lips, hand moving to clasp the back of your neck, drawing you closer. You stumble towards him until you’re pressed against his front, so close that you’re practically inside his jacket, resting against his shirt.

Your eyes fall closed as his lips meet yours, he’s hungry for it, capturing your mouth, tugging your lip between his teeth. You feel a little like you’re being devoured, melting against him, his other hand moving to your ribs again clutching you to him and holding you upright. You stumble backwards when he starts to walk forwards, still gripping your body and still pressing his lips against yours.

He pushes you back onto the bed, leaving you to scrabble backwards up towards the pillows, watching him strip his jacket off. He immediately goes for his shirt, rapidly unbuttoning it. He’s slimmer than you thought, all tan lean corded muscle, with just a little layer of fat over his stomach and you find your mouth watering as you take in the soft covering of his chest hair. He seems to assess the situation for a moment, before unbuckling his belt, taking his plush velvet trousers off, unveiling his lack of underwear, half-hard cock flopping out.

You try to swallow your moan, he looks you over, reassuring; “Don’t worry, I got the sound locked darlin’. S’not like the house, but it’s good enough. You can be as loud as you like.” You almost immediately put it to the test when he hikes your dress up to your waist, exposing your panties, yelp escaping. You stare up at the red canopy, breath hitching as you take in the mirrored ceiling - you can’t take your eyes off of it, watching Elvis’ naked back, the small scattering of moles as he moves. His hands curl around, deftly unzipping your dress even from underneath you, loosening it enough to pull it off. Your head rolls back, watching your nakedness be slowly unveiled. You’ve never been body shy but somehow being unable to look anywhere but at yourself makes you a little self-conscious, and you’re glad when Elvis moves himself back up to be covering you.

“What’d ya want honey?” He slides a hand down, pressing a long, masculine finger against the soft cotton of your panties. “You going all shy on me?” You shake your head,

“No, no - I don’t, I don’t know,” He pushes the fabric into you, gathering the wetness already pooling there, wet patch slowly spreading. “Take - take ‘em off, let me, need them off Elvis, please.” He grins, finding your slight desperation amusing,

“Hmm…but they look so pretty doll,” He circles your clit through the fabric, “You sure?” You nod,

“Uh-huh, please -“ He hooks his fingers into the waistband, pulling them down your legs, getting you fully nude. He chucks them onto the floor and you flush at the sound of the wet fabric hitting the floor. Elvis soon distracts you though, resting on his elbow alongside you, pointing out how you look in the mirror.

His hand drifts over your bare stomach, somehow gently but firmly brushing over your skin and up to your chest, large sweeping circles - your breath catching as his hand trails closer and closer to you breast, rings warmed by the heat of his hand rubbing against your skin. Every time you think he’s going to touch you, properly, he returns to circle your stomach and if you could form a thought you’d ask him to speed it up, but as it is his mouth is attaching to your collarbone, gently sucking down, little bruises forming. Finally, your back arches to meet him. He finally brushes his fingers over your nipple, tickling, you gasp as he lightly pinches one, an immediate jolt of heat to your core. His hands brush down your sides, leaving you panting, before he wriggles down, pulling your legs with him, so that you slide down the bed, situating himself between your thighs. He runs his hand through his hair, finger-combing the fluffy hair backward, eyebrow arching,

“You ok with this baby?” You nod, not quite able to believe Elvis Presley is offering to go down on you but there he is, gripping your thighs, placing his head between your legs. “C’mere then.” He kisses the soft skin there, a little line across to the crease of your thigh. His breath tickles and your thighs tense in response. He murmurs something you don’t quite catch before he moves to press a kiss right above your clit. His fingers move from your legs, one hand remaining where it was, the other coming to stroke your labia, spreading your inner folds, feeling where your slick is already sticking your skin together.

“Lawd, hon-ey, you always get this soppin’ wet?”

“Oh god, Elvis, I haven’t - no-one’s ever,” You can feel him chuckle, the vibration making you gasp, but he doesn’t respond, simply wets his lips and dives in. His hands hold you open for him, and he manhandles your legs to keep them open and apart, your burning core on display for him. He flicks between lapping at your inner and outer folds, his fingers coming up to replace his tongue, scissoring into you, so that he can lick up to your clit, sucking onto the sensitive bundle of nerves.He’s clearly skilled, and the wetness, the newness of it - the shock of it all only adds to your growing heat; and the way you feel yourself start to tremble as the sensation grows.

Your hands clutch at the sheets, trying to avoid gripping his head even as your hips thrust up in response to his tongue spearing into you. You can’t look away from the image of his head between your thighs, enjoying the way his back ripples and how when he pulls back the bridge of his nose and eyebrows become visible. Reminding you who it is between your thighs, as if you could forget from the feel of his famed lips. His tongue licks its way up and down your folds, before tongue-fucking into you. His fingers move back as soon as he moves his tongue away, constantly touching you in some way. Your hips jolt and he moves his mouth up to suck on your clit; everything coming to be too much. He licks you through it, your stomach clenching as the pressure grows out from your core, orgasm starting to fizz through your veins, ringing in your ears.

You shudder as it hits, Elvis leaning back a little, rubbing gently with his fingers, your hips rolling in pure pleasure, until he leans in again to kitten-lick your sticky, wet, skin. Your thighs suddenly slam together of their own accord, and you feel his cheek on your thigh before you hear his “oof” at the sudden impact.

“Oh god, not again.” You try to sit up to apologise but you’re still breathless, and with your core still tensing from your orgasm you struggle to even manage to get onto your elbows. “Oh-no.” Elvis pops his head up, so you can both see each other properly, growling at you. Your head rolls back at the sight of him, sweaty upper lip and a mix of unidentifiable shiny wetness on his chin.

“You are trouble.” He quirks a grin, as if to ensure you know he’s at least half-kidding, shaking his head at you, “‘m starting to think I needta tie you down if I don’t wanna be battered.” You gasp, back arching and he chuckles at your visceral reaction. “Not right now though, huh, gotta - wanna be in you.” You nod frantically, affirmative words spilling out of your mouth. He slides back down to rest his head between your legs, holding your thighs open with a tight grip.

“Now, you be nice to lil Elvie, you hear me?” He whispers right against your sensitive folds, breath tickling, talking directly to your vagina, as if it might behave of its own volition, “I don’t think you have hands… or legs… but just in case. No more hittin’ me. Got it? I ain’t afraid to make you behave.” You burst out laughing when he does a high-pitched voice in response to himself, “Yes, sir, Elvis, sir, I’ll behave.” making it seem as if your vagina had just agreed with him. He’s smiling when he pushes himself back up, pulling himself to flop down on the bed at the same height as you, before rolling over, pushing an elbow onto the other side. He tugs on his cock for a second, before lining himself up, sinking into your hot, soaking, heat.

He groans, pressing into you as you adjust to his length within you, feeling the sweat on his chest rub against your skin. He’s slow at first, building up to forcefully thrusting into you, famous hips moving at speed.

“God, you’re tight, don’t do this often do ya honey?” You shake your head, and then nod, trying to respond, “Not too tight though huh, doll, you’re just - just perfect. Perfect for me.” He punctuates each sentence with a hard thrust, your response catching in your throat - practically choking yourself. He drags you back against him, hands gripping your hips. Jolting your body back and forth as he slams into you, shifting you to fuck into you at just the right angle. You have no idea what noises were coming out of your mouth, only that you were certainly babbling something. He seemed incapable of silence himself, a stream of curses and praises continually falling out of his lips.

He pauses in his thrusts, preoccupying himself with stroking a finger the length of your vulva, feeling where your bodies are joined. Your eyes fall closed, lost in the sensation of him. He moves back again, sliding his hand up to brush his thumb across your already sensitive clit, your back arching in response. He grunts above you, his thumb keeping pace, and his cock thrusting in at the same speed. It doesn’t take long before the way he’s knocking perfectly into your already sensitive core sends you into orgasm again, clenching down on him and shuddering, your mouth agape and your eyes shuttering closed as the waves of pleasure crash over you.

He drags you back from it, hips stuttering at a rapid pace, lasting only a minute before you can feel him jumping inside you, his face screwed up tight, mouth opening as he rapidly pulls out, shooting his cum across your stomach. He groans in pleasure, and you tip your head up to meet him, kissing him as aggressively as you can manage in your post-orgasmic state. By the time he pulls away, rolling off to the side and flopping onto his back, both of your lips are bitten and red-raw. You make eye contact in the mirror, watching both of your chests heave as you try to form coherent thoughts again. He’s covered in sweat, fluffy hair starting to curl at the ends with the exertion of it all, and you stare at your own flushed state for a moment, wondering how on earth you’d ended up here.

“So, don’t needta tie you down then, honey, just gotta tire you out.” Elvis’ voice was gravelly, and you murmured an agreement,

“I don’t normally flail so much.” You admit, somewhat jokingly. He grins, rolling onto his side to rub your stomach, avoiding his cooling ejaculate,

“Oh so I’m just special huh?” You nod,

“You must know that.” He stares at you, and you try to convey with your eyes the depth of feeling by which you mean it, not wanting to scare him by saying it out loud. You think he gets it though, when the next moment he’s smiling a little bashfully before rolling off the bed and stretching beside it. You take the chance to assess him all over again, now that the heat and speed from before is over, taking your opportunity to drink him all in, from the tan line high on his thigh, to the slight swell of his tummy all the way up to his little nipples, and to the slight shadow forming on his chin. He seems to appreciate the attention for a minute, smirking at you, before he wanders off to the ensuite,

“You hanging around for a lil bit, sweetheart? D’you wanna come to the show again tomorrow?” You wonder if it was intentional that he’d ask this where he couldn’t see your expression, calling out from the bathroom as he starts to turn on the water. But, in what world, in what universe could anyone turn down such an offer.

“If you’re inviting me!” He hums back in response and you feel a giggle rise in you at the next thought that pops into your head, “‘sides, got a promise of a tour didn’t I - Red’ll be expecting me.” You hear the faucet suddenly turn off, although the shower stays running and the next thing you know he’s striding out from the ensuite at that, bouncing you on the bed from the force of his jump onto it, growling as he pins your squirming, laughing self down, his knees on either side of you. He’s struggling to maintain a straight face as he manages to capture both of your wrists in one hand, the other tickling your sides as best he can,

“You better not. You want a tour, I’ll give you a tour. You hear me, little girl?” His hands feel like he’s only playing but his face was deadly serious - you nod rapidly in agreement,

“Yes, yes, Elvis - yes, I was only kiddin’ I swear!” You manage to make out through your giggles and he growls again, ceasing the tickling and pressing a kiss to your cheek, still practically smothering you, leaving little teasing nibbles down your neck.

“Fuckin’ Red.” He mutters against your skin,

“I swear I was only messin’ with you.” He huffs, but nonetheless kisses your lips once more, before releasing your hands and clambering off. He holds out a hand,

“C’mon - the shower will be hot now. Get you all clean and tucked up in my bed, somewhere no-one else can try and steal you.” You grin as you allow yourself to be pulled up, happily going with him and excited to see what the next day’ll bring.

#elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis x reader #big daddy elvis #elvis x you #elvis presley x reader #writing prompt game #elvis presley fanfiction #be-my-ally

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darcytaylor · 1 month

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There is a pattern to these fandom freakouts that's quite frankly become exhausting. Every time L hasn't posted in a while, trolls come out of the woodwork, posting shit affecting his loved ones, hoping to spur him into action. This is what happened last time with the HBS likes. Every time there's info or even so much as a hint that he's still with A, a smear campaign against him is launched, without fail. But if he posts something about Bton, all is forgotten in seconds, he's suddenly uwu babygurl Lukey Newts, perfect boy. Every. Fucking. Time. This is what happens whenever a celebrity isn't doing a little monkey dance for the fandom. And it's such a weird thing - if they're obsessed with someone, it doesn't necessarily mean that they love or even like them. In which case, I would like to kindly ask - why are they even here? Like, what are they hoping to get out of this experience?

Personally, I'm tired of going into any Bton fandom space at this point, hoping to see what's new and hopefully have a good time, and getting bombarded with literal nonsense that will be disproven within hours yet will somehow linger in the collective fandom memory and become a building block of increasingly unfounded theories that have diverged completely from reality, yet get regurgitated as fact every time new info emerges. They always find a way to contort even the most benign piece of info into intractable timelines of things that have been given meaning that they simply don't bear. Literally if you were to pull a thread, the whole thing would fall apart. Yet, these same things get resuscitated every time the fandom is mad at L or N or whoever for not doing whatever it is they think they should be doing.

The entitlement is mind-blowing and the rinse-repeat cycle of chicken-littling over the minutest thing is sucking every bit of joy out of being in this fandom anymore. It has become more time-consuming just trying to curate my experience than actually consuming content I'd like to see. What is even the point anymore, folks, huh? Would your own lives withstand the same kind of scrutiny you're putting these people under? They're just trying to make entertainment and a living out of it, what's the point of ruining everything? Whence even the urge? None of this is that deep. Is everyone just a miserable fuck anymore? I'm sorry for ranting, but it's become not worth it for me anymore when May was such a blessed time. Why can't we all stay in that energy? What good could possibly come of this? Thank you for listening and take care of yourselves, everyone.

I totally get where you're coming from. Fandoms can become overwhelming, and it sounds like you're feeling really drained by all the drama and negativity. It’s hard when a space you used to enjoy turns into a battleground of speculation, entitlement, and frustration. Your feelings about how fans treat celebrities and the constant cycle of drama are completely valid. I've noticed this pattern as well. It’s disheartening when every action or inaction of a public figure is scrutinized and twisted into something negative. Luke might not have handled everything perfectly, but the extreme reactions often reflect a lack of empathy and misplaced expectations.

It’s also frustrating when fandom spaces are overwhelmed with misinformation and sensationalism. This is why I found myself rolling my eyes at the information coming out yesterday. People should be more mindful about the sources of their information and why it’s being spread. The effort to sift through and debunk myths can be more exhausting than just enjoying the content. Constantly having to defend yourself or distance from the negativity to keep your enjoyment intact is disheartening.

It’s tough when people criticize you for trying to view the situation from a different perspective and not just join in the attack without knowing all the facts (or at least a good portion of them). It’s definitely tiring. I was feeling this yesterday because of the asks I was getting.

Remember, it's perfectly okay to step back if the environment is no longer enjoyable or is affecting your well-being. Fandoms should be a place for sharing enthusiasm and connecting with others who feel the same way, not a source of constant stress and conflict. I hope you find a way to rekindle your enjoyment of the fandom or at least find some peace with it. Take care of yourself and focus on what makes you happy. ❤️

#bridgerton #luke newton

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pocket-watcher · 3 months

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I remember, like, EONS AGO, I read a short story of a show magician hypnotizing a skeptical audience member and making them a cute lil toy on stage and I'm so sad I can t find it anymore. Since you're also a hypno writer- have you seen a short like that before? ;;

I’m sorry dear Watchling but I searched and couldn’t find what you were after :( Hopefully this story will make up for it!!

“…how much money did you spend on these tickets?”

Kayleigh laughed at her friend’s awkward expression. “Come on! It’ll be fun!!”

Rhonda rolled her eyes. “We could’ve gone to see Blue Man Group, or Hamilton! But no, you’re dragging me along to see a hypnotist? Hypnosis isn’t even real.”

She knocked the other girl’s shoulder with her own affectionately.

“Yeah, yeah, come on. I’m sure you’ll find it entertaining at least!”

The two headed in to find their seats.

As the lights dimmed and the music swelled Rhonda laughed at the absurdity.

“Introducing your amazing hypnotist for this evening, give it up for the Master of the Mind.”

The crowd ooo’d and aaa’d as the curtains peeled back to reveal a man in a burgundy three piece suit.

“Welcome all, how are you doing tonight folks?”

His question was greeted with a cheer.

“Wonderful, now. I hope you’re all ready for a great show! If you’re in the front few rows here’s a warning: you’re in the splash zone! That’s right, you could come up on stage and be my first assistant.”

Rhonda knew Kayleigh had bought these seats specifically in the hopes of being “part of the act”, so she put on her best don’t come near me face.

Luckily for Rhonda, and unluckily for Kayleigh, neither of them were picked. Several others were brought on stage, stared into his magical watch, and dancing like a chicken or meeting Beyoncé for the first time. It was all pretty pathetic.

“Yeah, sure. All of these people were obviously planted in the audience beforehand” Rhonda whispered in Kayleigh’s ear, earning a giggle and a shush.

“Excuse me, can we get the spotlight on those two?” The Master of the Mind pointed at the pair.

The two froze under the bright light.

And then Kayleigh beamed.

“Why don’t you two join us on stage?” He asked, earning a cheer from the rest of the audience.

“Kayleigh I am not - I swear to god, let go of my arm people are staring!”

Despite her hushed pleas hidden under a fake smile, it was no use. Kayleigh led them both on stage and stood proudly next to the Hypnotist.

“And who might you lovely ladies be?”

His voice was inviting. It was easy for Kayleigh to answer.

“My name is Kayleigh and this is Rhonda.” Kayleigh’s bubbly personality shone through.

The glint of a pocket watch stuck out of his pocket.

“What lovely names. Have either of you ever been hypnotised before?”

Rhonda knew where this was going. She rolled her eyes.

The hypnotist was smart. Charismatic. Attractive. But he wasn’t magic.

“I have not.”

Rhonda laughed. “Uh, no offence man, but I don’t believe in hypnosis.”

The audience sucked in a breath, some of them whooping in agreement.

His eyes made her feel calm though. Confident.

“None taken. In fact, how about we make things interesting.” He expertly played it up to the audience cheering. “If you can’t be hypnotised then I’ll refund both of your tickets for the evening, and I’ll ensure you two can come back and see any other show of your choice within the next few months.”

The audience loved that.

Kayleigh nodded enthusiastically and nudge Rhonda to agree.

That wasn’t the only thing influencing her to make such a choice.

“You’ve got yourself a deal!” She said, confident in her abilities. He held out his hand and she shook it -

Only for him to jerk her forward with a command.

“SLEEP.”

Rhonda sank instantly, dropping her conscious mind deep into a subspace of nothingness. It felt like giving in after being so tired, hours resistance in her head with her will slowly being eroded over time, except it all happened within an instance.

No thoughts.

Simply blank.

From somewhere way up, up, in her body, she could hear Kayleigh’s distant nervous giggle and voice.

“Is she okay?”

“She’s fine.”

The hypnotist’s voice was as clear as day, wrapping around her like a warm blanket.

Rhonda was nothing more than a passenger in her own body.

“Okay, now it’s your turn…” he said holding his hand out for Kayleigh to shake. She continued giggling as she forced herself to bring her arm up.

“It’s okay.” He said as he gently took her hand. “It’s only natural to-

SLEEP”

Part of Rhonda’s brain registered her friend slumping over suddenly, as if hit with a tranquilliser.

The two of the girls were made to STAND.

It was easy to obey. It felt good to. Rhonda stood before the audience without anxiety or fear, but a pleasant calm and a mindless smile on her face.

She was instructed to WALK. To RAISE HER ARM. Even to SPIN. At one point her and Kayleigh were ordered together to DANCE.

It all was accompanied by an echoing feeling. A detached joy.

The hypnotise brought her close and whispered in her ear.

“Aren’t you so glad you were wrong? Now, you and your friend are going to act normal until the end of the show. Then I’ll come find you. Understand?”

She nodded her head sleepily.

“Excellent…” he turned to the audience. “And one, two, three, AWAKE! Everyone give it up for Kayleigh and Rhonda!”

#I’ve never actually been to a stage hypnotist for fear of the cringe #I cringe so hard when I see hypnosis stuff irl and I’m around people I know #hypnok1nk #hypnosis #mind control #brainwashing #hypnotized #watcher answers #mindfuck #watcher writes #watcher’s stories

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novaonhere · 1 year

Text

Buddy System

Relationship: Cal Kestis x f!reader

Summary: Cal wanted to go out on his own, but after not being by his side for quite some time, you bring up something you learned back at the Temple when you were just a youngling.

Word Count: 880

Warnings: Nah, sexy time proposed in a funny way

A/N: Bored at work so clearing through my drafts, here’s a quick blurb

Prompt: "Then why did you even come along?" "Because someone has to save your ass if this inevitably goes wrong."

(gif not mine)

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The crew, such to Cal’s disappointment, wanted to take a day break on Koboh at the cantina. After a few weeks hunting down bounty hunters, everyone was exhausted. Cal finally caved when you fell over after standing for a few minutes from pure exhaustion.

Cal was restless. He wanted to keep the go-go-go mentality, and keep hitting them when they thought they could take a breather. He wasn’t used to breaks; he was used to running, fighting, pushing through.

He sat outside the cantina, tinkering with his saber with BD-1 at his side. He watched the people come and go, wanting to follow one that started their journey outside the city. BD-1 tries to entertain him, chirping some songs that he picked up from Greez and yourself. It only worked for ten minutes.

You’ve kept an eye on Cal as soon as you landed. You knew he wouldn’t be able to sit in one spot for longer than a few hours. Staying aboard the Mantis, you used this time to lay on the boarding ramp, using the ship as shade to read a few books. Every so often, you peeled over your book to see if Cal was still there, which he was.

You got to a good part of the book and hyper focused for a bit too long. Finally, after you flipped to the next chapter, you peered over to see your boyfriend gone. Aw crap, there he goes. You should’ve done more to help him relax, but he’s an adult he can manage. Well, apparently not. Throwing your book inside, you hop to your feet and take a better look. There goes the red head, following a raider towards their base. Something’s up.

You manage to find a balance of quickly walking and slowly jogging to catch up and hopefully not be suspicious. Cal flicks his head back and notices you making your way up. He doesn’t make a face as you look your arm into his.

“I watched him leave someone’s home with that bag, I have a bad feeling. The owner of the house was also crying.” Cal whispers, pointing to the large bag that the raider had in his hand. You nod.

“Now or later?” You ask, Cal shaking his head.

“I want to see where he’s going, see if there’s more stuff they’ve stolen.” The raider turns around to see us, but we wave and continue walking past him, coming up with a story to seem less suspicious. You both walk slow, causing the raider to groan and bump through you too to continue on.

“Well I’m coming with, obviously.” You smile, using your free arm to pat his arm. Cal seems annoyed.

“No, today was your rest day.” He whisper argues with you, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“And to you, and you know that we don’t like others dipping by themselves.” You roll your eyes. “Do you know remember what we learned at the Temple?” Cal blinks blankly, obviously confused.

“The buddy system?” You ask, Cal shaking his head. “Seriously? Damn, we didn’t like that lesson as much so I figured you didn’t like it as much.”

“If you don’t like the buddy system, then why did you even come along?” Cal grumbles, not wanting their cover to be blown. You could care less about the raider and trying to talk to your boyfriend.

"Because someone has to save your ass if this inevitably goes wrong." You scowl, just too loud. The raider finally turns around, shoving his weapon to your chin.

“We are out of town, what business do you folks have with my team?” He hisses as you throw your hands up.

“Sir, we were told to follow a raider heading out of town to pay someone back.” You explain, the raider slowly lowering his weapon.

“Who?”

“You all look the same.” You state blankly, Cal holding in a scoff of laughter. The raider doesn’t seem amused.

“I’m not going anywhere,” The raider stands facing you two, crossing his arms. “You’ll have to wait for the correct man.” You and Cal look at each other, coming to the same agreement. Cal flings into action, bashing the raider back with the butt of his saber. Stunned, the raider drops the bag, giving you time to grab it and run. Cal follows, leaving the raider gasping for breath, laying on the ground.

“When we return this, you are going to properly rest.” You shout at him as you both run into town.

“Oh yeah? How?” He scowls, catching up to you.

“You look pretty relaxed after an hour in the bedroom.” You smile, shocking Cal. He smiles widely like a happy boy on Christmas morning.

“Give me the bag, and meet me on the ship.” He exclaims, slowing down as you reach town. You both stop and you give him a quick peck on the cheek. He rushes into the house, startling the owner.

Giggling, you make your way towards the Mantis. Before you get too far, you feel a pair of hands snake around you, turning you around. Cal places a sweet kiss to your lips before throwing you over his shoulders. You shriek in delight as he takes off to the launch pad, a few passer byers giggling at your shenanigans.

#cal kestis #cal kestis jedi survivor #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x y/n #cal kestis x you #jedi survivor #reader insert #star wars #star wars jedi fallen order #star wars jedi survivor #y/n #star wars x you #star wars x y/n #star wars x reader

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serendertothesquad · 7 months

Text

"Wordsville" and the Problem with Cash-Cow Copies

[note original day of creation was February 15, 2024. just...just for reference. trust me bro.]

Hello.

Tonight I am in a silly mood fueled by sleep deprivation.

That means you all get an introspective blog that I will complete within a week and then ask "why'd I write that?"

So here's what's on Seren's lovely table of discussion tonight...

Put...put away the glasses. You don't need your glasses. This is the highest-quality thing I can get.

But et voila. A little project in the works called Wordsville.

Now, at this point you might be asking why I'm referencing "cash-cow copies" in the title. And whoo-hoo...oooooh...well, I don't want to make this some kind of clickbait blog, so I might as well perfect the atomic bomb in five minutes and land it on you folks.

What if I were to tell you that this is a blatant, shameless, slap-a-digital-coat-on-it-and-call-it-a-day copy of Odd Squad?

Ahhh, see, now I have you intrigued. Hopefully. If you are, then peep down below and let me discuss things a little more in-depth for you non-believing hacks asking me if I'm borderline insane.

So to put things in perspective, allow me to explain what Wordsville is, starting with my own personal summary.

Wordsville is an up-and-coming episodic (not to be confused with serialized, that's a whole 'nother ballgame) TV series that is produced (and will later be distributed) by Sinking Ship Entertainment and is made with assistance from WNET, a PBS station located in New Jersey, and TVO Kids, PBS Kids's girlfriend from Canada that's definitely real.

It was announced back in October of last year with a press release from Kidscreen, which didn't give much info aside from the following blurb:

Wordsville stars two child detectives on the hunt for missing words that are causing chaos in their town.

Sounds a little familiar, don'tcha think? Two kid detectives, finding something missing...and that "something missing" is causing chaos where they live?

Oh, but if you think the similarities end there, then no. No the absolute fuck they do not. I've got my bathing suit on and God damn it if I'm not gonna jump all the way in the pool instead of dippin' my little toes in there.

Doing a little bit of digging reveals more tidbits from a casting call for the series. It's rather wordy (ayyyyyy I did a funy), so let's take it piece by piece and discuss accordingly.

Wordsville is a town populated entirely by kids

A town that is populated entirely by children? Now c'mon, surely that doesn't ring a be-

...Ah. Whaddya know. Yes it does.

And with the adults as useless and idiotic as they are, it might as well be a town full of solely children. Next question.

and it’s a place where words matter. A lot. Every kid citizen has a special connection to words. And that means that if something happens to a word, there are far-reaching consequences.

A special connection to words? Like how there are children who have a special connection to normalcy? Stopping, oh, I dunno, hypothetically speaking...

...oddness?

Okay okay, I'm reaching just a wee bit here, but you can't read this and not tell me it echoes the funny kids math show to some degree or another. If an odd thing happens to a person, the whole town suffers. You've seen it. I've seen it. It's been the basis for many an A and B-plot. Must I elaborate? Good, because I don't plan on it. Continuing.

If the Main Street Baker bakes delicious donuts and they all mysteriously disappear, nothing else in Wordsville can taste good until they are returned.

Town Baker walked so Main Street Baker can sprint while blowing their lungs out.

If the Town Doctor’s soothing medication gets swiped, the whole town gets uncontrollably itchy until the medicine-napper is uncovered.

Ignoring the incredibly dark implications of this as well as the implications of this shoddy knockoff town having only one single doctor...

Dr. O walked so the Town Doctor can sprint while blowing their lungs out...over their massive paycheck.

(I technically could have also put New Dr. O too, but I'd like to spring for iconic OG's here. New Dr. O is neither iconic nor an OG.)

And let me remind you that "Torontonians get uncontrollably itchy due to something odd" would, by technicality, classify as an odd problem. Because...I mean, y'know...the cause is something odd happening. Doing shit with words is odd. This needs absolutely no explaining.

If the Local Scientist does an experiment with electricity and all the lights in town go out, they won’t come back on until the experiment wrecker is revealed.

Yep, I've taken shots of every IPA I can. We nearly hit the main character quadfecta, if you discount Dr. "bro thinks she's part of the team" O. All they needed was a bit about a high governing body and we'd round out the quad squad in proper with Oprah!

There's also a sneaky lil' crumb in the form of that blurb relating to Oona, who did, indeed, experiment with electricity in one episode and wound up proving why she can never take up Crossfit.

Hmmmnnnnext!

In each crime, the episodic word disappears and can’t return until the mystery is solved. The impact of the missing word is felt all over town.

This is another one of those things that I gotta wrench a hammy for in terms of comparisons, because about the only thing I can reasonably compare Odd Squad to is the second sentence.

See, here's the thing. You get oddness that happens to a person. Oftentimes, that oddness spreads to other people, whether directly (in the form of diseases and disorders) or indirectly (like the Town Baker's cakes being split in half, which wouldn't please Torontonians poppin' in for a whole cake and eyeing the display to get a feel for one). In a sense, normalcy disappears and, well, it can't return until [insert partner pair here] solve the case. It's kinda the entire schtick of Odd Squad as a franchise. It's formulaic, just like how Wordsville's "words disappear and nothing can be normal until the word returns" schtick is formulaic.

Is it a stretch? Perhaps. Mileage may vary. I think it's a bit of a stretch, personally. But hey, I'm a grown adult critiquing a ripoff of a kids STEM show. I shouldn't be talking. But I didn't start this fandom nearly 10 years ago just to let Sinking Ship's piss-poor attempt at really capitalizing on one of their biggest franchises sliiiiiide right by me on a floor smooth enough where I'm falling on my ass every 10 seconds.

Luckily, best friends and partners Sage and Chase are on the case and run the only detective agency in town. These tech-savvy sleuths solve mysteries entirely virtually because their reading, listening and digital literacy skills are their greatest strengths. Sage and Chase always catch their culprit and make sure everything is right with the word.

Now where in the McFuck do I start with this one? The PAW Patrol catchphrase thrown in complete with shared name? The fact that there is only one detective agency in the entire town? The fact that Sage and Chase are best friends as well as work partners? Or the pun that made me actively cringe in a way I haven't felt since Whitney told James she wanted to go on the lake?

I mean...this is about Odd Squad, so...I guess the second one sounds most plausible.

But that doesn't need explaining either. There is only one detective agency in town. There is one Odd Squad precinct per city or per state.

No, neither does the third bit. I already referenced Olive and Otto above. You should know what's up.

(I've also read that blurb five times now and...well...we'll get to the digital stuff in a bit. That just needs a whole side-set of word vomit.)

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In my digging of this series -- which, well, wasn't all that much -- I managed to find a few blurbs on our two main characters. The casting call for them, funny enough, called for, and I will quote this exactly, "talent to look 9."

As in, they want the actors to physically look 9 years old.

Which puts that qualifier in the same ballpark as Odd Squad UK's "talent must be Canadian but live in the UK". But at least that prerequisite actually had a legitimate earnest reason behind it, which is that the production needed to be Canadian in a lot more than just the "Canadian prodco works on a British series" sense. Hiring kids who have to physically look 9 years old and will probably be yoted onto the street the second puberty hits them like a truck is a practice not even the most egregious bosses of family-owned-and-operated businesses could pull off.

But enough about the qualifiers. Let's get started on our character comparisons and civil cidiscussion! (Oh the irony...)

And remember this: the casting call was handled by Larissa Mair Casting, who previously did casting for Odd Squad. So that means there will be tinny lil' crumbs of bonus material for me to dissect and discuss! Huzzah! Aw God why can't this happen for Odd Squad UK...man, I'm gonna have to go into my sobbing corner...

First up, we have Sly Sleuth, originally referred to as "Sage" here. I'll also be referring to him as "Sage" in this blog.

Sage is a great detective; thoughtful, extremely logical, and talented at getting information out of people.

Thoughtful of others. Logical. And can wrench information out of suspects like a badass.

Yep, we got an Olive that got hit with an Olando-fied beam. (And because half of you don't know who Olando is: Sage is meant to be a male Olive. I hope that clears things up for you.)

What else?

Nothing related to vocabulary or literacy gets by this investigator. Suspects can underestimate Sage but that is always a mistake. Sage doesn’t scare easily and won’t take no for an answer, traits that make an excellent detective.

You could tell me this was how Olive was meant to be written in "My Better Half", word for word, and I would honestly believe you. Right down to asking, "Her name was Sage in pre-production?"

About the only place I can draw the line here is at Olive not scaring easily. We don't know Sage's backstory -- and once again, this is an episodic series, so don't expect much in the way of plot, backstory included -- but Olive, at least, has a legitimate reason for all the times she covers her ears at loud noises or sharply reacts to something startling.

The former is because of The Censor-Friendly Bullet Massacre of '15.

The latter is because Dalila Bela marched straight out of a viewing of Who Framed Roger Rabbit and never looked back.

I...can't really say either applies to Sage. At least not yet. We'll have to see if Sinking Ship decides to bring Wordsville into its lil' multiverse that Odd Squad and Dino Dana and Endlings and Playdate already share.

Sage is also wise, which is why the name “Sage” is completely appropriate.

Sooooo does that mean his name is Sly because he's cunning like a fox?

Well then in other news, Olive is named such because she was inspired by the famous Law and Order character Olivia Benson. I have fifteen folders that back me right the hell up. Also I contacted Sinking Ship the other day, they explicitly told me.

No, no, but in all seriousness. Olive, too, is very wise. Historian buff, knows her shit about Odd Squad, doo-dah, doo-dah.

Anyway, next up we have Chase, who was renamed to "Gabby Gumshoe". (I'll be referring to her as Chase in this blog, as well.) Let's see what's on the chopping block for her in terms of our favorite food-loving, hella tall, crazy silly blorbo.

Chase is a fantastic detective, but is also goofy[,] funny, visually oriented, and, like the name suggests, loves the “chase”.

Now there's a man who got hit with a yassified beam, right there.

I'll leave it up to you folks whether you consider Otto to be "visually oriented". But in terms of "loving the chase"...yeah, I'd say that fits.

To lay it down: Otto is a rookie agent. Common sense would lead anyone to assume that he has an absolute blast solving odd cases and absorbing every bit of knowledge about Odd Squad that he possibly can. He finds out a villain's on the loose? He's right there, by Olive's side, workin' to catch 'em. He finds out oddness has run rampant throughout the town? He's right on that shit.

Chase, on the other hand, is someone I wouldn't call a rookie. It's made quite evident that she is, for all intents and purposes, seasoned. Seasoned enough that she manages to keep the detective agency she works for afloat and get approval from the others in Wordsville, Sage included. This, perhaps, is because she's not really meant to be an audience surrogate in the same way Otto is. Otto, at least for the first few episodes, serves as a way to ease the audience into Odd Squad and show them what the organization is and what they do without yoting them into it and leaving them asking "Where am I?" more times than a drunkard. Chase doesn't fill that role, because it could be argued that such a show like Wordsville doesn't really need an audience surrogate. Whether that's true, though, remains to be seen.

People tend to underestimate this investigator, but Chase often notices things like a chocolate stain when someone said they didn’t like chocolate or a squiggle of icing that turns out to be the antonym of the word they’re tracking.

Y' take Otto's...Otto's love of food...and y' put it in a gorl...and BAM you got a character.

...

That isn't a joke. It's dead-on serious. Even the casting call script pins Chase as a kid with a sweet tooth! It's just Otto but with a less diverse palate! Otto eats everything! This kid eats sweets! God sakes, give her some juice, make her Oprah, I don't give a shit, fucking hell I'm driving 50 minutes to Burger Ki-

Chase is also great with computers and incredibly artistic. A graphic note taker[,] Chase loves to draw, has a great eye for details, is a big fan of the “zoom in” function, and really enjoys creating animated re-enactments of Word Mysteries.

All right, we finally have somewhere we can draw the line.

No, not at being tech-literate. With being artistic.

Otto's artistic talent kind of varies throughout the franchise. In drawing on paper, he's pretty solid for an I-just-recently-turned-10-please-praise-me-year-old. In making paper airplanes, he's solid enough to take down a grown-ass man and rock his sunglasses when he's done for.

In computer drawing...well...if you can believe it, concepts like Ibispaint and Photoshop don't exist in the world of Odd Squad. (Okay, maaaaybe Photoshop does. I don't think it does. But it could be a good in-universe justification for it.)

We don't know Otto's digital artist merit because we never see him make any digital art. All of his art is solely non-digital. On Chase's side of things, she lives in an era where digital drawing is, like in real life, the norm. It's a contrast that might be one of the more glaring ones when it comes to comparing these two shows.

Now, as for the "creating animated re-enactments" schtick...if that isn't an excuse for Sinking Ship to work their animation magic after the Sandy Cheeks movie, then I honestly don't know what is. If you wanted to make the show animated, you could have made it animated. Would've been cheaper, too!

(And "Word Mysteries"...it's not as grating as Wild Kratts's "Wow Fact", but it's edging pretty close. I blame WNET. That's solely a PBS thing right there. TVO Kids would never.)

----------------

So we've gotten the discussion about the two main characters out of the way. Now we can dive into the heartier meat. The kind where's it's purple on the inside but you still digest it anyway.

I'm talking, of course, about the sample scripts- script. Singular. There is one script. Uno.

Now, lemme give you a bit of a rundown: casting calls for Odd Squad -- really, most shows, but this is a blog about Odd Squad -- often come with sample scripts. This is so talents can read their parts aloud for the camera and have the tape submitted to the casting agency for consideration. Odd Squad in particular has had quite an interesting ride with sample scripts, from entire episode plots being adapted into final products (with a bit of tweaking) to characters having names different than what they're named in the final product (which is the case with both Sly and Gabby). They're nothing on the scale of ABC Me dropping episodes earlier than PBS or shorts getting dropped as an alleged April Fools prank, but they're pretty damn good crumbs to chew on.

The sample script starts out with Sage and Chase on, of course, a video call. (Sinking Ship made a Zoom reference once. Pray they do not make another by the name of a friendly drug called "Speed" or that term for peeing known as a "Whiz".) Chase explains that she just gave her office chair's wheels a tune-up, which, of course, makes her hungry. Hungry enough that she declares a "cookie break" and immediately takes out a ginormous cookie from hammerspace that just made the European bakery down the street from me start sobbing. (Look, they make good cookies. Giant cookies. Cookies I need two hands just to hold properly. Trust me, it's- it's massive.)

However, when she bites into the cookie, she finds that it tastes absolutely gross -- "not sweet, not even sour". While she ponders if her body has forcefully rejected one of the best sweet treats known to humankind, Sage begins to grow suspicious and asks if it's a Word Mystery they need to solve.

Which is, coincidentally enough, when the Main Street Baker calls in a fit of hysteria, explaining that their "delicious donuts" are gone. And because we can't take enough from Odd Squad, we get a bit of "literal humor" in the form of the donuts both being delicious (probably) and them spelling the word "delicious" prior to their disappearance. After Sage explains what "delicious" means as well as what synonyms are, it's shown that the culprit also struck other pastries, up to and including gingerbread people, which Sage absolutely takes personally because he's a kid of pure culture who gives a big "fuck you" to holiday-specific treats being enjoyed only during said holidays.

Chase, in true Otto fashion, decides to take more bites of her cookie and instantly regrets it. Sage, in true...well...Clint Eastwood fashion (I shit you not, that's literally what it says in the script), declares that they need to find the word "delicious" and fix the pastries.

And...yeah, that's about it. Like I said, there's really not much to go on with casting call sample scripts. Especially not ones from Larissa Mair.

My conclusive thoughts on it, you ask? Well...they can try to hide it, but all it's doing is enforcing my point. From the Main Street Baker having donuts missing similar to how the Town Baker had bagels missing in "Soundcheck", to Chase being an idiot who is obsessed with food the same way Otto is (right down to his willingness to drink Odd Todd's pickle juice when it tasted gross in "Bad Lemonade"!), even down to the "literal metaphor" kind of humor as it applies to singular words. Am I stretching? Perhaps. But these supposedly insignificant pieces are just part of the bigger picture, the larger issue at hand in this long-winded piece.

------------------

The digital aspect of Wordsville is one of the ways they decided to put a twist on the precedent that Odd Squad set. And it's so blatant and in-your-face that it's on par with shoving a red flag in someone's eyes to blind them.

But here's the thing. The digital aspect been done. Amusingly enough, by the same company.

Lockdown is a show that fits right in with the others at the Shows-Made-During-the-COVID-Pandemic-About-the-COVID-Pandemic club. It was a way to capitalize on something in society that probably will never be relevant again until around 2050. Maybe even earlier than that, at the rate we're going.

I haven't seen it, so I can't speak much about it, but from my side of things it looks a lot like Unfriended if it took place during the pandemic and wasn't a horror movie and involved teens and not young adults/adults/I haven't seen the movie in many years bite me.

But the main difference between Lockdown and Wordsville, relevant to this editorial, is that Lockdown has a legitimate reason to be shot entirely on electronic devices. It's part of the plot. It works, I'm sure. For Wordsville, it makes no sense for the outline and isn't just limiting, but is downright insulting for something "rooted in the 21st century". It's good to be unique when making a show, but there's such a thing as trying too hard to be unique to the point where it's detrimental to your show's quality. Making the show be a digital-only angle isn't a smart move, especially for a detective procedural.

And if it's trying to differentiate itself from Odd Squad...well, do I got some bad news for you.

The show already did an entire Zoom parody in the span of an 11-minute episode.

And I still hate it with all the vitriol of an old woman who hates kids playing with beach balls in the yard pool. It sucks ass. It's entirely unneeded when you have three children sitting around the same table. I could vomit on you all day about it. But at least it's far more justified than Wordsville having its entire formula based on it. You can rip off a show without being limiting.

(don't. seriously. don't.)

------------------

Before we get to the conclusion, I need to dive deep into Odd Squad's own popularity and explain it a little more beyond just little "trust me bro" tidbits.

If you've been following it for as long as I have, then it's no secret that Odd Squad is one of Sinking Ship's cash-cow franchises. You've got the main series, six different spinoffs, a live show, a book...and I didn't even provide a whole damn list! Point being, it's huge. It doesn't have many roots in pop culture, but from a certain angle, it is an absolutely massive franchise that continues to grow, even in spite of its controversies.

Unlike works such as SpongeBob or Bluey, Odd Squad isn't popular enough to get bonafide ripoffs. The formula is relatively easy to copy, and if anything there are shows that have a similar premise but aren't even close to ripoff territory (K.C. Undercover, for example). It's just that, for all the ripoffs people have done of shows and movies over the years, the motivation for industry bigwigs in taking Odd Squad and running with it just...isn't there. I can connect it to Disney or Dreamworks or Viacom all I want, but at best they have a vague awareness of it that only goes as far as "oh, that's a thing, I guess". At worst, they see it as a pile of shit that would never turn a decent profit.

It could be argued that Sinking Ship wasn't all too well-known in the entertainment sphere up until Odd Squad came around. Looking at their resume doesn't show all too much in the way of what's popular. This is Daniel Cook, Roll Play, Playdate...they don't stick in your head, right? Yeah, none of them stick in my head either. Odd Squad was their first big hit for them, something that really helped them gain ground as a company. It's the one that's pretty much linked with Sinking Ship in news articles. Like husband and wife, but for the TV industry.

But to Hollywood bigwigs, that means about as much as finding a stick on the ground. I guaran-goddamn-tee Bob Iger is not going to put his grubby little hands on the funny kids math franchise and twist the hell out of it. The only way that's happening is if you run "Odd Squad, but make it Disney" through an AI generator. (Which, for the record, I have not done. You can't really replicate Odd Squad characters in animation without making them look like they walked out of yet another Law and Order spinoff that's far more kid-friendly.)

However, even with Odd Squad's varying popularity, there are shows that go just a little beyond having a similar premise to it but don't dive into ripoff territory. Sort of like a next step up.

A long time ago, a few friends and I in an Odd Squad Discord server were discussing the show Numberjacks. You know, that show that Jacknjellify may or may not have used as inspiration for Four's design? Yeah, that's the bitch.

The show has a few similarities to Odd Squad. You've got the focus on math, a system for exiting the couch headquarters that's similar to the tube system, and even the existence of kid agents and incredibly odd villains, one of which, need I remind you, Twitter tried to make into a sexyman for all of two days to varying degrees of success.

I will admit, I haven't seen Numberjacks in several years. In fact, the last time I saw it was when it was brought up as an Odd Squad ripoff. If I recall correctly, the episode that I picked to watch on a whim was "Seaside Adventure", wherein a few numbers take a vacation and trouble occurs. Or something like that. I really can't remember many details.

One thing I do remember, though, is distinctly thinking that I could see the Odd Squad similarities, but...it's not a ripoff. The series premiered in 2006. By that point, Tim McKeon and Adam Peltzman were off on their own ventures as they wrote for cartoons and other things. Thus, Odd Squad hadn't been birthed yet. If anything, Odd Squad took cues from Numberjacks, not the other way around -- but even with the existence of Odd Squad UK, we don't know that for sure. I don't even know how popular Numberjacks was in the UK. I'm a dumb lil' American, not a Daphne-Moon-esque English woman.

Since then, I haven't found anything that has come close to what Wordsville aims to accomplish. Granted, though, I have not looked very hard. I'm moreso keeping an eye on PBS to see if they're going to try and rip off Odd Squad rather than keeping an eye on any random B-lister studio. (And no, I'm not talking about WNET. They are a PBS station, but I'm referring to PBS as a whole entire network, not a sole affiliate.)

------------------------

So the question remains: is Wordsville an Odd Squad ripoff?

Yes. On multiple counts. Right down to the name inspo. Guilty as charged. Right to jail.

From it being for the 4-7 demo not unlike Odd Squad's own 4-8 demo, to Sage and Chase being referred to as "Word Detectives" in lieu of "agents", to it being a detective procedural not unlike Odd Squad and its spinoffs, to the synopsis of the show being described as having "a case rooted in a vocabulary lesson" similar to Odd Squad having episodes rooted in STEM lessons, to it actively encouraging the audience to solve mysteries along with Sage and Chase...to Sage and Chase having alliterative theme naming...

Yeah, safe to say, we've got ourselves a ripoff.

There's no denying that Odd Squad is a fantastic franchise. Even through all of its issues, including financial controversies, heavy criticism, and mistreatment from PBS, it has remained strong for nearly 10 years, and will stay strong for many more. Maybe one of these days, it will plant roots deeper into pop culture and become one hell of a phenomenon. We'll have to see.

But the fact that Sinking Ship Entertainment has to resort to borrowing a concept that is unique in its nature, a concept that has already been done, a concept that has been given life and creativity by the people who birthed it, and then try to pass it off as its own original IP is not a good look on them. It's been done similarly before with their other big franchise, Dino Dan -- key word being "similarly" because it's one show and three spinoffs focusing on different characters. That isn't the case with Wordsville, though.

Put it this way: it's a company ripping off not someone else's IP, like many other companies have done and continue to do. It's a company ripping off their own IP.

And really, it doesn't matter how it's done. Stealing is stealing. At the end of the day, all it shows is a complete lack of creativity and a complete craving for the almighty dollar. More so if it's a company stealing from themselves and passing it along as okay.

In spite of this, however, I am perfectly willing to give Wordsville a shot when it comes out. Not so much to see if it's good (though my curiosity is piqued), and definitely not to hate-watch (which has the opposite intended effect on a show or movie), but to see just how far Sinking Ship is willing to push the envelope in affirming viewers and industry buddies alike that this is not, by any and all accounts, a copy of Odd Squad. I want to spot similarities. I want to take whiskey shots until I can do a zoom-zoom to a hospital and then ask if they've got a bottle on board the rig. I want to give a full, I-watched-this-show-now-here-are-my-overall-final-thoughts addendum on the entire issue.

As of now, Wordsville has no narrow timeframe. All I know is that it's releasing this year, likely on TVO Kids in Canada. Whether PBS as a whole will adopt it into its roster -- and if anything, it'll be WNET-exclusive, otherwise we would've heard something about it at the TCA Winter Press Tour a few days back -- for American audiences remains yet to be seen. Rest assured, though, that I'll be keeping an eye on it and rushing to it as soon as the first episode drops. After that, I'll give a proper addendum so I can finally put this issue to bed. Along with myself. Revenge bedtime procrastination is a bitch.

Thanks for reading. This honestly started out as something silly, but then I became analytical. So you got a mix of both in this one. This may or may not be the norm. Day-by-day, y'know?

Seren out.

#odd squad pbs kids #odd squad #wordsville #sinking ship entertainment #seren's studies

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transthadymacdermot · 4 months

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Tagged by @fortunatetragedy for this wip questionnaire tag game! answering for my histfic wip the nobler grave

What’s the first part of your WIP that you created?

The characters! Many of them are carried over from earlier things I've written so of course

If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

Oughhh probably a version of either arthur mcbride or the unquiet grave! both thematically appropriate (imo) folk songs so either works

What are your favorite characters that you made? Why?

Of the characters who feature in this story, it's a tie between my bestfriend Eoin O'Donnell and my daughter who has every disease Sarah Connolly... mostly because I find them both rlly interesting characters who deal with the horrible things which have happened to them in really interesting and simultaneously deeply unhealthy and also deeply understandable ways. I also really like Charles, Lord Drenning for his insane imperialist hubris which is deplorable but fun as hell to write

What other pieces of media do you think your fanbase would share?

Probably things like black sails + the terror + sharpe for similar time period and vaguely similar themes. Also there are a bunch of lesser known pieces of irish historical fiction which heavily influenced NG in many ways which I think people who like NG would probably like, and also like. Real Irish History. I write for the people who also have 6000000 crusty pdfs even god doesn't know about on the topic of nineteenth century irish governance in their google drives and those people ONLY

What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP?

I would say the historical stuff but honestly it's probably specifically language related... there's plenty out there on how people in the early 19thc spoke and plenty out there on hiberno-english but comparatively little on how peasants in mid-ulster in 1810 would have been talking to each other. it's not nonexistent I'm just having to do a lot of very dedicated research lmao

Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

The only really significant animals are charles' 'wolfdogs,' his pack of hunting dogs which are like... mostly irish wolfhound wrt their breeding (☝️historical note: wolfhounds were mostly if not totally extinct in ireland by the time the story takes place, only a few people still had them and mostly as status symbols. so the fact that charles is using them to actually hunt is significant!). There are six of them and their names are Gaineamh, Méar, Sicín, Ciarsúr, Arán, and James. for reasons which I will leave currently only known to ppl who speak irish the man who named them (charles' kennelmaster) is viciously mocked for what he called them

How do your characters travel/get around?

Largely on foot, sometimes on horseback and sometimes in carts. The wealthier characters ride more often, and some take carriages. Trains and cars haven't been invented yet 😔

What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

Working out the details of the government committee charles is on -- fleshing out the members, figuring out What The Hell It Actually Does, who it answers to, etc. lots of reading and rereading accounts of how the government worked in late georgian britain and ireland yayyy

What aspects (tropes, maybe?) will you think draw your audience in?

Historical fiction with (hopefully) a high amount of attention to detail

People who are allowed to be very 'bad' victims because people often become deeply unpalatable and lash out after trauma and that is literally that

The bizarre psychosexual obsession between like. all of the characters

Commentary on perception of history

The unavoidable tragedy of it all

Let's Hate The British Government Together 🫴

What are your hopes for your WIP?

I'm just having fun writing it, man. don't rlly have any specific goals atp other than entertaining myself and my best friends who reply with fire emojis every time I tell them about it

Tagging @ettawritesnstudies @orphanheirs @fenatics @macabremoons @scorpiothesaint @poethill + anyone else who wants to take part :3

#wrt the wolfdogs btw the english versions of those names are all real things my cousins recommended i call my cat #i refused but i didn't want to let her down entirely hehe #wip: tng #tag game #jory.txt

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genderqueerdykes · 1 year

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disabled drag queen / vogue ballroom dancer here. i wanna do the fun stuff that other drag queens / vogue dancers do. i wanna be able to do catwalks and and duck walks and dips and death drops and struts and all that stuff, but i have bad joints and chronic pain and i am unable to do those things. i’ve practiced vogue dancing for a long time but i just cant get past the beginning stages. it’s a struggle wanting to be active in the entertainment faction of the queer community but having a disability hold you back.

hi there, i just wanted to offer digital hugs, because i feel this. i've been very disabled my whole life and there's a part of me that really wants to dance, i've always wanted to do choreographed dance, but like you mentioned, i'm very disabled i have bad joints and chronic pain as well, and i haven't been able to set anything like that up yet

i don't think it's impossible. i think it's possible for people to find ways to express these things in ways that are accessible to them. i know some folks do dance routines in wheelchairs! you may be able to find a way to perform safely with your mobility aids- i think disabled bodies should be allowed to perform in ways that are accessible to us. i don't think we should have to force ourselves to perform like bodies aren't like ours

i hope you're able to figure out something accessible to you, i wish you the best of luck, hopefully someone may be able to help give some advice! stay safe, we appreciate you a lot. take care of urself

#asks #answers #drag #drag queen #disabled #disability #disabled drag queen #disabled drag artist #disabled drag

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zmzebra-writes · 6 months

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Title: The Wrong Amagi Wedding Chapters: 2/? (start, next) Genre: Comedy Summary: After being invited to their father's second marriage, Rinne and Hiiro find themselves having to temporarily return to the village. Not wanting their friends to be alone, the rest of Crazy:B and Alkaloid join them on their journey back, but these "city folks" might not be the only ones learning something new during this visit.

In this chapter.... On the road time! What's a story without the journey and what's a road trip without Tatsumi driving? No way things could go wrong before they even hit the village, right?

The day of the trip had arrived. To Rinne’s surprise, it was suspiciously easy for both units to request time off for all members. Ibara seemed frustrated as he waved Rinne away with an already signed leave form for Crazy:B and, according to Hiiro, Eichi appeared to be holding back a chuckle or two as he signed off on Alkaloid’s leave form.

In any case, planning for the trip had gone off without a hitch. Rinne originally planned to see if he could weasel his way into renting a company car for the trip until Hiiro mentioned Tatsumi had a car he could drive them in. The church had a van which could just squeeze in eight people plus luggage. Tatsumi even offered to take care of the driving as well.

Rinne figured since it was Tatsumi’s car, it would be fair to let Tatsumi drive while Rinne took care of navigation from the passenger’s seat. Hiiro gave him a promising review saying that Tatsumi’s driving made him fall asleep.

‘Must be a soothing driver,’ figured Rinne. It would fit his calm demeanor.

From there, it was only a matter of fitting everyone and their luggage inside the car. Rinne warned everyone to pack lightly, and thankfully even Aira had listened to his advice because the backseat Rinne and Tatsumi set up essentially in the trunk for the youngest members was a tight squeeze. Kohaku and Aira pulled faces as they crawled into the back with only minimal complaints.

As Hiiro crawled in behind them, Rinne handed Kohaku a messenger bag. “I trust you to guard this with your life, Kohaku.”

Kohaku opened the bag and looked inside. Various snacks and drinks. “Huh?”

“Distribute these wisely,” said Rinne with the utmost seriousness before pushing the middle row of seats back into the upright position.

The next row was a bit more tricky for personality reasons. No matter how Rinne puzzled over how to arrange the remaining three, someone would always be a little upset. Eventually, Rinne just gave up, and chose the option with the least casualties.

HiMERU would sit behind the passenger seat (to minimize the amount of Kazehaya in his sight line and risk him going for the kill and taking out the driver). Mayoi would take the remaining window seat so as to minimize his discomfort with human contact. Lastly, Niki would take the middle seat, and hopefully his bony ass wouldn’t mind having to sit on the hump seat.

With everyone in their place, Rinne collapsed into the passenger’s seat. He sighed. It was hard having to be the responsible one for once, but this entire visit to the village was stressful enough that even the potential in-flight entertainment from purposefully arranging his unit mates into the worst possible seating arrangements didn’t excite him.

Best was to just hope for a quiet few hours. More time to plan meeting his father face to face for the first time in years. Tatsumi should be fine navigating for the first half, and then Rinne would take over with specific navigation as they got closer to the checkpoint.

‘I’ll just lean back and relax until then,’ thought Rinne as he watched Tatsumi buckle into the driver’s seat.

“Don’t forget seatbelts everyone!” called back Tatsumi as he flicked through his keys.

“Wait,” said Aira as both him and Mayoi became more panicked, “Tattsun is the driver?!”

“Hm? What’s wrong with Tatsumi driving, Love-han?” asked Kohaku, “It’s his car isn’t it?”

Rinne picked up on the chatter in the backseat and looked over.

Tatsumi tapped his shoulder, redirecting Rinne’s attention. “Ah, Rinne? You need to buckle up before I start the car.”

“Sure, sure,” waved off Rinne as he buckled in. Might as well follow the rules of the careful preacher. “Safety first, right?”

Tatsumi smiled. “Safety first.”

Tatsumi turned the key and began backing out of the parking spot.

“You don’t understand, Kohakucchi,” frantically said Aira as Mayoi began to cry, “Tatsumi is a lawless driver and no one is safe if he’s behind the wheel.”

“Huh? What do you mean—”

“Alright, everyone!” called out Tatsumi as he switched the car from reverse to drive, “Let’s get moving!”

“Noooooo!”

Rinne quickly found himself thankful Tatsumi insisted on him wearing his seatbelt since that was the only mercy Tatsumi had for them in this vehicle. Screams echoed in the car from the back seats.

“Tatsumi!” called out Rinne.

“Hmm? Yes, Rinne?” responded Tatsumi as he sped up to make a yellow light across an intersection.

“Slow down! We are going to get pulled over!” In truth, the police were the least of Rinne’s worries. The law was more of an afternote when one’s life was flashing before their eyes.

“Don’t worry, Rinne,” said Tatsumi as he turned his head to look at Rinne.

“Eyes on the road!” cried out Rinne in a panic as they ran a stop sign.

Tatsumi looked forward again in time to make a sharp turn down a narrow road. “I’m very familiar with all the routes in the surrounding area, and I know exactly where the cop cars hide. We won’t get caught while I’m here.”

“If we survive…” said Rinne miserably under his breath.

♠♡♢♣🐝♣♢♡♠

Eventually they reached a small town. Rinne had taken over driving when they stopped for gas with the claim that his navigational knowledge would make him the better driver in the final half.

When Rinne moved to question his brother about what the hell was up with that misleading review, he found Hiiro passed out in the backseat. Whiplash, Aira had called it.

In any case, the only remaining danger was HiMERU reaching forward and strangling Tatsumi who sat in the passenger seat enjoying the sights. Which, in Rinne’s opinion, would be well deserved for shaving off the life spans of everyone in the car. Even Niki lost his appetite briefly on the ride.

Rinne sighed in relief as the sign for a small inn came into sight. They made it before a murder took place. Rinne parked the car in the sparse parking lot and turned around in his seat.

“Alright survivors! I hope you got a nice good rest because it's time to lace up your boots and get walking.”

Groans that sounded suspiciously like Aira came from the back seat. “Like I said in the group chat, our village is deep in the woods so we can’t take the car much farther. We will have to hike the rest of the way so file out, stretch, and grab your bags while I go check in with the innkeeper.”

Rinne walked into a small house shaped building. A middle aged woman with mid-length brown hair pushed back with a wide dark blue headband sat at a high table. “Hi! Checking in?” she asked.

“Yep! There should be a reservation under the name ‘Amagi’,” said Rinne as he glanced around the cozy room. It felt familiar…

“Amagi…? Oh right yes here you are,” she said after looking down at her binder full of spreadsheets, “Will you be needing the key to your room?”

Rinne gave a friendly grin. “Ahaha, thanks for the offer, but I’m good. My friends and I just needed a place to park our car before we go camping in the nearby woods.”

The woman looked Rinne up and down again. “... Are you familiar with these woods, sir?”

“... You could say that.”

“When do you plan to check out?” asked the woman with a serious look, “It’s good to let other people know when you plan to return before going on a hike.”

“It shouldn’t take longer than a week.” Rinne would see to that.

Her face relaxed into a comforting smile as she closed the binder. “I wish you luck on your trip, sir. Stay safe.”

‘I hope we stay safe, too,’ thought Rinne.

“Thank you, ma’am for letting us park here at a discount to your usual rate~,” said Rinne with a playful tone. Best to throw on the charm to stay on the innkeeper’s good side.

The woman chuckled. “It’s my pleasure. Not many people come to visit here, but it’s peaceful.”

“Have a nice day!” he called out as he left.

“You too!”

The door clicked behind him as Rinne returned to the car. Tatsumi appeared to have taken over the role of the leader as he distributed everyone’s bags and helped organize everyone.

‘That makes things simpler,’ thought Rinne.

“Everyone ready to go? We have a long, mountainous hike ahead of us,” said Rinne as he walked over to get his bag.

Aira pulled a face at the idea of an exhausting, treacherous hike, but luckily, Hiiro noticed his good friend’s distress and had words of comfort.

“Don’t worry Aira! My brother is just exaggerating. Only the main path goes through sheer cliff sides. The path I took uses nearby trees to avoid them!”

Aira became paler. “... Trees?”

Kohaku quickly swooped in for damage control. “Don’t worry, Love-han! I’m an expert at climbing trees and can carry you up and down the branches.”

Hiiro felt like his position as his unit’s defender was being threatened. “I can carry you too, Aira! I’ve climbed trees since I was a kid.”

“So have I!”

Rinne laughed at the sight. It was worth pulling their legs a bit. “Nah, no trees will need to be climbed… unless you want to Aira~.”

Aira frantically shook his head.

“I know these woods like the back of my hand,” continued Rinne, “Things might have changed while I was gone, but the route we’re taking should be relatively easy for you city folk.”

Rinne didn’t want to risk a medical emergency during what was already going to be a terrible week. He had already privately talked to Tatsumi before the trip to gauge if he would need any special treatment due to his bad leg.

‘No need to worsen his condition,’ Rinne figured. To his surprise, Tatsumi brushed off most of his concerns, claiming his foot had already healed months ago. Rinne hoped for everyone’s sake, he was right. First aid was limited in the village.

The mouth of the path Rinne planned to take was close to the inn. From here on, it should be smooth sailing. Maybe they’d even run into an old friend when they broke for lunch.

#rinne amagi #tatsumi kazehaya #kohaku oukawa #aira shiratori #hiiro amagi #enstars #ensemble stars #my writing #fanfic #also disclaimer in case it wasn't obvious from the start but like this story will feature multiple story important ocs #still thinking about how to character tag them...

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frenzyarts · 1 year

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On a less "weird radfem" note wouls you actually have any advice for getting out there and meeting more queer folk and hopefully making some irl friends? I feel like I don't really get out enough to actually like meet people but also my town feels pretty dead as far as queerness and things to do goes.

It’s a little harder for me to give advice to a person who’s town is more on the quiet side because I’ve always moved to more urban environments. But I’ll give you some advice and hope some of it is usable for you ❤️

1. Join an event at a game shop (like dnd or Pokémon cards ect) as long as it’s not a boys club, lots of people queer play dnd

2. Go to gay bars! If you don’t drink, still go but only on nights where there’s an event happening, that way the booze is not the only entertainment and maybe you’ll get to see a fun show! It can be hard to talk to people in that environment but in my experience drunk people are usually super friendly hahaha

3. Find queer friendly discords/reddits for your area, and see what events people are setting up! This is a bonus because you get to talk to them online beforehand. Extra extra bonus if it’s something you’re interested in, for example “Los Angeles squishmallow fans” or something

4. Join a lowkey team sport :3 there’s a lot of casual adult leagues! If you don’t want to play the sport, maybe they need volunteers to help their team in other ways

5. Dating apps! You’d be surprised how many people use those for friends instead of dating. I can vouch for bumble

That’s all I can think of! If anyone has more ideas please add on in the replies 💕 and good luck!!

#frenzy post #queer

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goorehound · 2 years

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Hiya! Can I request a Sodo x reader fanfic where the readers feeling really lonely and upset because it always feels like they’re a second choice and struggle with making friends because of their social anxiety and Sodo notices it and comforts the hell out of them ?

Sure thing, Anon. I’ve never tried to write Dewdrop as all that soft or kind so this is my best take on it, hopefully it suits your needs!

(I do call him Dewdrop and that’s a habit I can’t shake, sorry folks!)

Comfort

Dewdrop Ghoul x GN! Reader - 670 words

You knew that you were moping and it obviously wasn’t helping. It just hurt, and wallowing on the couch in your own self-pity was currently the most appealing option.

Not even your phone was working as a good distraction. Every attempt you made to interject your self into the group-chat seemed to to get more and more difficult, until you’d eventually just given up. But it was fine. Truly, you didn’t mind entertaining yourself and you’d do just that. As soon as your heart stopped aching enough that you could get off the couch, that was.

You’d hastily wiped your face and sat up a little straighter when you’d heard footsteps growing louder, exhaling slowly as you scolded yourself. Just needed to chill out, that was all, relax and watch some TV and then you’d be sorted.

Lifting your gaze as you started to fiddle with the remote, you flashed a quick smile as Dewdrop threw himself over the back of the couch to drop down on to the cushion next to you.

“Sup.” He greeted as he planted his shoes on the coffee table. There was a beat of silence before his neck silently rolled towards you, clearly put off by your lack of answer.

“Huh? Oh. Trying to find something to watch.” You answered absently.

“You should probably turn it on to do that.” The ghoul gestured lazily at the screen in front of the both of you.

Somehow that did it, of all fucking things. Your face crumpled as tears threatened to spill, but you were still collected enough to laugh wetly when Dewdrop shot straight up in blatant surprise. You didn’t wait for him to act first, slumping over to rest your head against his shoulder and take a sobering breath.

“Why is having friends so hard?” You asked, lightening your statement with a wavering smile as his arm hesitantly folded around your shoulders. The wiry arm guiding you just that much closer and leaning the pair of you back into the cushions.

“Sorry. Sorry, that was fucking dumb.” It was difficult to fight through the embarrassment of the burn of tears and the fact that you were practically hanging off the poor, unsuspecting ghoul - but he was so fucking warm and you were so fucking tired.

“It’s not dumb.” This was spoken with a bit of a growl, and you leaned into the vibrations as the arms grip tightened around you. “Something happen?”

“No. Kind of? Not really.” You drew your knees up to your chest and thought it through. Nothing big had happened except for letting yourself spiral, and it all felt like far too much to explain. “Just got in my own head and - you know.”

The rumbling growl eased into a purr as you felt the ghoul’s cheek rest against the top of your head, drawing a heavy sigh from you. When you felt him take in a breath like he was about to say something, you were quick to interject. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Dewdrop seemed to accept this easily and instead he was stretching to reach over to pull the throw blanket around you both. His tail came to coil it’s self around your thigh and offering a comforting pressure.

“I’ll put something on.” He decided, snatching up the remote and quickly put on some random garbage reality TV. You were too exhausted to poke fun at his tastes, soothed to a dozy state by the heat and purring.

“Thank you.” You said quietly as you let your gaze land on the television, and you felt him shake his head slightly. Weakly, you batted at his chest. “I mean it. Thank you.”

“You’re a good friend.” He told you seriously, mouth half muffled where he was pressing his lips against the side of your head. Your eyes closed against the threat of more upset, instead letting yourself relax and prepare for a good couple hours of lazing on the couch with the fire ghoul.

#dewdrop ghoul x reader #sodo x reader #fic #ask #request

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joshy-tomato · 10 months

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If you get two versions of this ask, my apologies. Wifi is being wonky

Some folk really do not deserve kids. Case in point, Furina's parents. Hopefully, Freminet's mom joins in on the court case, she did have her child more or less taken from her. Arlecchino investigating good and hard on everyone these two harmed or messed. They are not leaving jail anytime soon, preferably ever once Neuvillette wins the case.

Ah, yes, the best ways to bond: mutual suffering. Makes me wonder how long the war against Celestia lasted, poor Neuvi had to live with his failure to save not just Focalors, but Furina as well.

Can't really fault the Knave for being too intense, it's amusing to imagine and I think she deserves some unhealthy possessiveness. It does translate into Furina getting lots of love and affection, and just affirming the stance that Arle is the best person for Furina. But, that's also because a certain someone has been getting rid of any prospective lovers.

I almost want a coworker of Furina and Arlecchino to remember and just side eye this "friendship". Hmmm, not sure who would fit that. None of the Harbingers give off entertainment industry vibes and the image of Scara or Childe finding out via a movie and choking on their food and drink is just too funny to let go of. Maybe Clorinde manages to work her way into being a minor character on a set or two? Or, someone else...

And awwwh, that's.. nice? Cute doesn't fit because the situation is pretty screwed up, but hey, Furina is learning that Arlecchino is plenty reliable and especially angry for Furina and Freminet's sake. Arle sticking to Furina's side whenever she can in the courtroom, always positioning herself in front of Furina when the parents try to talk to her. Definitely glaring at the parents, who quickly back down or maybe they don't, 'cause some people don't deserve survival instincts.

Also! Furina introducing Arlecchino to her little brother since he's been taken out of their dad's custody with the court case on. Arle speaking super softly to Freminet.

(Dont worry, I totally relate to having a horrible internet)

Indeed, Furi and Fremi parents are Foster Child of such sentiment. Arlecchino collecting every person they fucked over will be pretty cathartic, the start of the most unhiged era of the Stan account.

Reading that I totally imagined Childe, either as an actor or stunt double, maybe both, coming across Arlefuri and simply noping out. Nope, he never liked Arlecchino to begin with, he is not getting involved om her messy love life, not again.

Arlecchino reaction totally changes the way Furina sees her like, yeah they are friends but Furina does think that she is sometimes weird and is afraid that because since Arle was her fan the weird behavior is because Arlecchino has her in a pedestal. But Arle behavior during the trial shows her not only Arlecchino is reliable, but that she will not look down on Furina just because she is vulnerable and not the perfect star she pretends to be.

Freminet meeting with Arlecchino, I kinda have this idea that, due being raised along with Furina, his memories of the past life were unlocked very early and sadly childhood amnesia is a thing. He does remember more than Furina of course, but is a lot less clear and reliable than those who unlocked their memories as teens and adults, he probably assumed that those memories where dreams and the people he meet where imaginary friends.

#genshin impact #arlefuri #reincarnation au #Ask #anonymous

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fans4wga · 1 year

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To any newcomer joining the industry after they graduated college or just getting into the field, what is your advice on what they should do? Like if they are in LA/NYC or not in LA/NYC, what can they do?

Sorry if this is left field!

That's a huge question with a lot of variables, but fortunately our mods are also newcomers in the industry and have been through this ourselves so hopefully this is helpful :)

A couple things you can do to prepare yourself:

Unpaid internships, though clearly and obviously exploitative of vulnerable populations, are sometimes (UGH) the only or best way to get in the door and have something legit on your resume. (The paid internships are unfortunately so much more competitive, but definitely apply if you can!) A lot of internships and jobs are posted regularly on LinkedIn. This is a good Linkedin group to see job postings for young people working in entertainment.

How do you even make a resume for Hollywood internship/entry-level positions? Great question. Highlight any media experience (yearbook, newspaper, journalism, graphic design) and leadership experience. (Unless it's like, from middle school. That's too far back.) If you have the chance to submit a cover letter, focus less on trying desperately to prove yourself and more on who you are as a person: someone who is determined, yes, but would also be a good, solid coworker; any stories that reveal your talent for narrative and showcase your skills.

If unpaid internships aren't possible for you, consider checking out adjacent jobs in podcasts or journalism or other media, which would still be good on your resume before you make the switch to film/TV.

Get a nice, recent headshot (doesn't have to be a professional shoot, you just want to look professional in your social media and email profile pics.)

Join the picket lines in LA/NY if possible (WGA has the locations here). Everyone out on the picket line is supporting the future of the entire industry. It's not only the current workers on strike, but you and your peers too, who depend on the outcome of these negotiations. Also, if you consider yourself "pre-WGA" (interested in being a writer/WGA member in the future), there are a handful of groups organizing strike support for pre-WGA folks! Get plugged in with them.

Read the trade publications daily, or at least a couple times a week, to stay on top of what's going on in Hollywood. The typical places are Deadline Hollywood, Variety, The Hollywood Reporter, and I also like IndieWire and the NYT movies section personally for their profiles and reviews. Basically you just want to be someone who knows what's going on in your own industry and can talk intelligently about the state of things.

Likewise, podcasts. If you're going into TV writing, I can't recommend Children of Tendu enough. If that's not your specific field, search around for what other people in your field are listening to!

I hate having to say this, but... Twitter. Lots of WGA members, directors, actors, and industry people are active on Twitter, despite the, er, problems with the platform. Look for both pre-WGA and WGA people, connect with them, start building a community, maybe join a writing feedback group. (Again, since I'm a writer, that kinda applies to just writers, but I'm sure you can find other departments there too!)

On a similar note: You've probably heard a lot about the importance of networking—getting to know people in the industry who might be your coworkers in the future. That's important advice, but even better advice than that is to network horizontally, not vertically. Translation: Don't always seek out people who are in more advanced stages of their career than you: they're probably very busy and their lack of interest in lower-level people could be discouraging, even if it's just a reflection on their lack of time and not on you. Instead, network with people at the same stage as you—people who are new in LA/NY/the industry, people who are coming up and have similar passions and goals as you, people who are your coworkers and peers. I'm coming up with a lot of really cool people and it's very likely we'll all be in a position to help or hire each other 10, 20 years from now.

That said, you could also try to find a mentor who knows more than you do, but that's tricky territory because again... Hollywood. People are busy. But if you do get the chance to apply for a formal mentorship program, or if someone you know shows interest, having a mentor to go to for questions/advice is super valuable!

Acquire skills. Microsoft Excel skills. Standard screenplay formatting skills. Final Draft skills. Graphic design skills. Website building skills. A lot of people start in the industry at the assistant level, and these things are invaluable on your resume.

For writers specifically, I've heard the advice that you need to get 5+ shitty scripts out of your system before writing something decent. And from personal experience, that adage holds true. You need to write a significant amount of crap before you find your voice and get a handle on script formatting. Online classes and writing groups can help a lot with this.

Also for writers: You should not be trying to start your career as a professional writer without 3+ SOLID, GOOD SCRIPTS in your portfolio that match your voice as a writer, fit your (ugh) writer "brand", and have been revised based on feedback from writers you trust. If you have any doubt about the state of your sample scripts, go back to the drawing board and write a new pilot script.

If you want to be a creator, watch stuff extensively! Old stuff, new stuff, award-winning stuff, stuff that you'd want to write/direct/act in someday. Pick a director and watch everything they've made (or the same for writer/actor/costume designer/cinematographer.) You need to be decently fluent in what has come before you. This industry is only 100 years old, so it's very possible with time to become someone who knows the art form inside and out. Don't watch shallowly, either; watch deeply for analysis and critical thought.

Some final words from someone who cares deeply about the overall wellness of young people in the industry. This industry terrorizes people, and there are a lot of stories of abuse and breakdowns. (Oh, another recommendation, though pace yourself because it's a difficult book with a lot of potential triggers: Burn it Down by Maureen Ryan talks about industry abuse, written by a journalist who's tackled a lot of breaking news about abuse in Hollywood. Essential reading for people going into the industry.)

So prioritize taking care of yourself, and not just in the uwu self-care way, but the bone-deep "know thyself", "if you don't take care of yourself, you will literally cease to function" way. Love yourself enough to know when to step back and take time off. Love yourself to gain good time management skills so you can live a less stressful life. Love yourself enough to build a community of people who will look out for each other.

Wishing you the best of luck. If any pre-WGA/early career folks in the industry want to continue this conversation, this mod's main is @captaincrais.

#hollywood

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